I made my home here on the floor.
For years I've worn the same painting clothes, every time finding a more adult body underneath, and a more adult character spread over the walls. One thing that hasn't aged: my love for the smell of hot cotton. But that's it.
I lie myself down in my little vacancy, still vague, still waiting for personality. And I'm just leaving the playing field open with possibility here, but through all the growing past verdancy we've done, perhaps when this is all through, I'll sit in my little vacancy and weep bitterly.
I lie myself down in my little vacancy, still vague, still waiting for personality. And I'm just leaving the playing field open with possibility here, but through all the growing past verdancy we've done, perhaps when this is all through, I'll sit in my little vacancy and weep bitterly.