Go to bed.
Restless legs make for restless heads...

My mind is a smoke that rises to the ceiling
a growth we can't control with out any healing...

Where we all want to run
And the thoughts flow so free...

This question that we do no ask ourselves
Thrown at the fear of a truthful answer...

City lines shine like the top of your day
the skin upon my sleeve is darkened until grey...

My hope sinks in and drowns in your threat.
Miniscule thoughts provide preoccupation of regret...

I struggle them shut, to shut out myself.
I open them in hope to release what I have so long...

Thoughts carry me to places of my own
Places you say are too far from home...

Falling slowly but surely
i know it wont be long...

The million words didnt express one feeling.
Not a sliver of pain or possesion...

When my mouth parts to breathe, and the words...
And then, jsut when the worst that has been...

I have always taken more than i could.
More than often im rushing the end...