things are weird. things are in every thing. but every thing is just a thing. a diamond ring. a wooden one. a plastic lunchbox with the power rangers on it to look at your tv and see a speeding 2D sonic puts my pulse up a notch.
I love everything i am but then wish i could be everything im not keep reminding myself it's just a thing. the sound of a class bell ring. the sound of a glass clink. to hear a person sing who technically can't but still makes a connection because you hear each word in it's purest most thought out beautiful form, take note, you don't need notes to sing. not for me. not when i saw him live for the first time, all my money spent to see an old man's frail fingers create a tune that's timeless.
let my letters lie. lay on broken beats that spoke volumes through a heart so strange bumped me two times then sat in a cage fighting for more, some wine to put two and two time together i swim under the harmonica that plays me out. sometimes all i want to do is shout. for. for .for . myself. to come out. I'm so mellow I couldn't punch a pillow throw my bones out the window scrunched up im a man with insides but i still put my hand through my chest and feel nothing. no heart. no soul. if there was anything to say i would have said it already. hollow. i've eaten aplenty. i stuck my head out the door and saw a storm coming my way. I'm not. heavy. I'm just. I'm. trying. as hard as i can.swim fast through the storm head under water come out a man. believe im for the cause six fire tiger im heavy at the doors
