obsoletism

Airlock Sickness

When your blood,
Seems not to pump so hard.
When shes not around,
Your soul seems to be bound.
Your wings clipped,
And your feet planted.
You know youve lost,
And at what a cost.
You have to add to the list,
To remember this:
The sun will always come up tomorrow,
And the sunshine will always drown out the sorrow.


To this day, I fail to follow my own, or anyone else's, advice.


. . .And I still carry that polaroid with me. . .

. . .Everywhere I go. . .

Not much to fight for anymore.