Prepare my pink private jet
How many times do i have to say...
Winter sends my thoughts South,
Like birds, flying in formation...
(My mom was almost asleep on the couch.)
Me; Mom are you OK...
Its in my hand
but makes no sound...
It starts to get hot and steamy,
and it starts to boil...
APPLE & YOGURT
these things we used to share...
Silence my old friend we meet again
i see you wont return my gaze...
Death is the sweetest sorrow,
Even though it doesn't let you see the light of...
Every August without fail
it has come to visit me...
Here we go round the Milky Way,
Spinning the solar cycle...
I was talking to my life the other day...we talked...
I stood up and told her that she could take her...
Sometimes i dream in
black and white...