I cannot express enough the level at which I never want children.


Aimless (draft)

Taking my old beaten up guitar

and walking to the bridge behind my place

There’s no reason to ask me how I’m feeling

Just trace the lines on my face

No I haven’t been here long, and I’m not planning to stay

I don’t know who will miss me at the end of the day

Is it obvious my socks are different colors

And that I can’t tell my up from my down?

Nothing needs forgiving, I just feel I’m living

Backwards, inside out, and twisted around

But my shields are up now and I’ll make it somehow.