tide down by my handicaps
This summer is good for me. I am gone just about ever other week. And Im always busy. Yet I still think its good for me. It gives me and my friends chances to talk about everything that I miss. And yet I still find somethings to be uncertain about. I can put my finger on it and I think that its starting to get to me. I read a book totally not relating to the subject that is on my mind and yet I put a reference to it. I cant hear a song and not think of it. It brings a smile to my face to be able to think about that and yet the same feeling makes me sick. I cant hold on with just the idea that you "just might". Its brings me down. And yet you say..."you cant leave". If I was to leave, what would that mean. That we are just what we have always been? Have you thought we were more or was it just me that you never told? I cant hold back my intentions.
I wanted to write more but it would get disturbing
I wanted to write more but it would get disturbing