I wanna know your ways,
the way you move, I hesitate. Got me thinkin', got me tired. I can't even feel myself, because I can't remember what it feels like, when you felt me. Uneasily numbed, by the sudden separation. Only sparks I feel aren't sober, only good I feel is pain, I wanna know your way of oblivion, so I can make it through the day. Like an anchor sinking under, down to depths I cannot see; I always had this faith in you, you never had in me. The last I heard was questioning, of your questions themselves. Always leaving room for chances, putting problems on a shelf. I wanna know your ways, the way you move, I hesitate. Got me thinkin', got me tired. I wanna know your way of oblivion, so I can make it through the day.
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You won't feel the highest highs,
if you haven't felt the lowest of lows. That dark in your soul, is lit by its own glow. And in the dead of the night, the empty pain in your chest; know that ease be from freedom, as you lay it to rest. |
Sydne Kilberg"She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something." Archives
February 2016
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