(no subject)
my heart is a black bird that likes to fly.
i sit at home now.
i drink tea and i don't have to think about production of words,
but instead of the care of babes.
i leave for mexico in two weeks,
i miss the boy that i love.
when i drive and i listen to van morrison i think of hampshire,
and i miss the hearts that beat with mine there.
i miss the eyes that are pale but full of life that i'm used to waking up to,
and i hope the pieces of this puzzle are ones that will work.
it's almost christmas now and the songs are playing.
i sit at home now.
i drink tea and i don't have to think about production of words,
but instead of the care of babes.
i leave for mexico in two weeks,
i miss the boy that i love.
when i drive and i listen to van morrison i think of hampshire,
and i miss the hearts that beat with mine there.
i miss the eyes that are pale but full of life that i'm used to waking up to,
and i hope the pieces of this puzzle are ones that will work.
it's almost christmas now and the songs are playing.