Baby, dont fret,
At least were alive with just enough breath
To truly despise the hills in the carpet,
Knots in the ties that bind us so tightly to our waking lives,
Ill build up a house, Ill build up an army
Of cellophane soliders--cheap origami,
To take back a piece or whatevers left
Of that little box that beats in your chest.
#
Mood swings are no-fucking-good for my sanity;
It's been a crazy couple of days.
SoA finale this week, what the hell am I gonna do with my life.