I breathe the words
You say, (trying) to fill
The chasms in my head.
Maybe, I was never meant to be
This way.
You say, (trying) to fill
The chasms in my head.
Maybe, I was never meant to be
This way.
Let the sun bleed through its scars
Sifting through the gaps of my fist.
Another memory blown away...
Elsewhere
Is where I want to live, the stories
Of "rags to riches" belong to someone else,
this time around.