There you go, looking like a painting once again. You're always on the tip of my tongue, the back of my mind, buried in the lines of my palms.
I can never find the words or find the time.
I've been too scared these days to recount the thoughts that pass my mind.
I find these socialites disruptive.
My memories interrupted with corrupted cravings and feeling this dismantled affinity for breathing in deeply.
Some days I just don't dig myself
Some days I just don't dig down into the pit
I lost myself in the waves
One day I hope to hike off into the sunset and never regret leaving my home behind
There's sanctuary within the pines