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call me on the phone
tell me all the ways you’re gonna mess me up
As you take your final bow.
I feel that this is just goodbye for now.
outsiders dressed up like Sunday morning
I can’t sleep when I think about the times we’re living in
and I will remember your name and face
Not enough young in his lung for the water wings
your voice still echoes in the hallways of this house
but now it’s the end
let the flowers grow into the deep below
oh, would you forget me now?
Have I told you?
that you are the purple in me
a spineless laugh
breathe, keep breathing
(published in issue 51 of CMYK)
Broken Home of Convention 