hanging from a guitar string
the longing,
for sleep,
it's been now,
one hundred thirty-two weeks,
not belonging,
for keeps,
this feeling,
is a sign my heart is weak.
the empty moments between the times,
that i get to see you eye to eye,
makes me sigh,
makes me sigh.
the memory,
my defeat,
pain killers,
the salvation that i seek,
neurotic,
thoughts creep,
devour,
or is it love consuming me?
the empty moments between the times,
that i get to see you eye to eye,
makes me sigh,
makes me sigh.
the empty moments until the time,
that i get to hold you,
i,
want to cry,
makes me cry.
i miss your ways,
i miss your face.
posted by fillshe @ 6:58 PM
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