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The World Is A Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid To Die
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Picture of a Tree That Doesn't Look Okay
Do you think the landlord's pissed? We left a car parked on the lawn again. He's looking. The porch is still and empty. We wrote our friends names on the walls inside. They're laughing. We know that this isn't home for long. The posters in your bedroom speak softly. They tell stories. So while the weather's getting worse we take shelter in these walls again and tell stories. So where did you live and what did you learn there? We watch the fallen leaves turn to frozen trees, it's been another year. Where do the echoes from the echoes go? Where does the water flow when it leaves our homes. I've been searching for this, something that I can run away with. It's a life changing decision. Should I leave or try to beat this? (I know it gets harder everyday. But the dawn will fade and our skin will flake away.) Where do the echoes from the echoes go? Where does the water flow once it leaves our homes. Live wires are like this. They hit the streets and form a beacon. It's a danger we've been warned, but we still stretch and try to reach them. Watching our planet grow on screens I spoke into a window sill and still forgot everything and it spoke back. A thousand frozen trees but still there's something burning. (I will stare while you are growing. Come with me to empty places.) They are filled with everything. Where do the pieces of our dreams recede? Into eyes shut that are opening. I never have ever decided what to think of all the years I spent in Connecticut. (Whenever, if ever I get my life together I'll apologize for all the things I should have said) So beat on the bass drum, make all the spiders run. We threw rocks at the house and it looked back. (and done. Another day lost to the setting sun. I stare at the ceiling and it looks back.)
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