klock

Organic sounds of lungs callousing from agressive excersion is what I hear
especially on this hollow night
the rumble of the speed
the incontrolable movement
the intakes of despair
I honestly don't care.

The same old routine is beginning to form
old beliefs that you wish you could uphold, deteorate slowly
No matter what is said, you do not believe it
you feel it once in a while, but you are never satisfied
there is no satisfaction in solitude.

you wish you could be feeling a cold breeze rushing through your soul
hoping it will accelerate your feelings
wishing you could be alone with them
while being crowded with people you truly love.

too bad vehicles run on 4 wheels not 5...
no matter how much you hate the seperation, you cannot do anything
they wish to be with new people,
while you look for chance of being part of a conversation,
your thoughts wonder in a slow cycle through the clips and pictures of a
missed period

I want to go and play my guitar at a park at night under the stars, somebody take me