Sifting through 3 years
|
8 months and a handful of dust like shadows
|
falling through a matrix of "wish I hads"
|
And it's much harder to see how much space was taken
|
when your chest pounds with the footsteps of those you've forsaken
|
its a shame isn't it
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The way these hours spin out of control
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and how the tighter your grip on the why
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and the how insures a faster demise to a here and a now
|
There's no strength in numbers is the one thing I've found
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and you can't trust your balance
|
until you've walked with your feet on the ground
|
|
-----------------
|
Finger Redux
|
| Hot Cross |
