you see trash
junk
scraps
and i see potential
art
and beauty
junk
scraps
and i see potential
art
and beauty
False memories might betray me but,
i think i used to look up this street, and dream,
dream about becoming one with the pavement
where the road met the sunlight
I could almost taste the harshness,
there's just so much I want to say, to pour out from me into you
but where to begin?
it begins home, at home, my head, the house, the lawn
the yard where I begin to understand how to be a human being
bite your tongue and swallow
count to ten, divisible by 2 on a good day and 5 on a bad day
9 chews too loud
8 rubs on each finger, 8 thumb to thumb and then every other finger. always an even number
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