fitting into the past

I think I wrote this about three years ago.


hold up your hands / hold down your heart / you open your mouth, it tears us apart / throwing the pieces, they’re falling faster / we’re getting closer to a disaster . . .

broken thoughts and mended words / where did you go?

it’s about time we crash, we’re bursting into flames / and i’m sick of playing your stupid mind games / there’s so much out there to discover before we die / and i’m not wasting my time here / listening to your stupid lies / i’m ready for the break down / it’s time for us to crash.

closing my eyes / cause i won’t listen to your anger / or what you’re missing / so sick of your words / words you’re throwing up. / like a bitterness when wasted time is up

i’m not meant to be here / so i’m not gonna stay . . .

On the road tomorrow to Monday.


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