sixteen

Sep 30, 2008 03:57

I'd walk backwards for days.
If we could somehow meet in the middle.
Oh I held you so high.
Then I watched you dig your holes.
We meet on sundays.
Like somehow I am normal.
My lifeless hands.
Gravitate.
Towards you.
I don't want to live to 23.
I'm sorry.
Previous post Next post
Up