Tuesday, June 18, 2019

The silence in this car is bottled.
The moves we make with our mouths are tired.
I would kiss you again but neither of us wore sun block and the way your hairs tied up is restrictive.
I don't know about you, but I don't know about us.
Yesterday i dreamed of wedding cake and mowing the front lawn.
But for now I lay with tears in my eyes, two buckets of sand weighing us down.
Jump.

it's a blank page but somehow you are pictured here it's a empty hammock and somehow I still see you swinging my eyes are closed and...