What makes me laugh. What makes me cry. Where I hope the wind will take me and what its going to take for me to stay.
I guess all I have left is memories.
You think I forget, but no I just tuck them away with my soft lint
as you accuse me of forgetting
things that were infinite and will make a stain on our own histories.
Im scared to pull them out because then they will just whither and die
and float to nowhere and everywhere
and I wont have them near to me anymore.
I will have to think how great life was
and then I have to think about life
and comparisons never bring out the butterflies and autumn
the body is eating away at your mind