Lost in Crazy..

Your lips, my skin, the high and me thinking that this boy was made for us to meet. Isolated moments in time should stay there. In a place of nostalgia and maybe regret. Isolate that moment and put it in my hand. Curl it up. Forget it. Deny its existence, for personal growth requires matter and that was a void.

It is in the spaces between how far removed we feel we've become from everything that made us people, everything that made us real.      Enough time, enough disappointments and you'll become the one going beyond compromise for compromise.  What value is skin touched empty? What weight is flesh not torn apart? Life is not a path life is a metamorphosis, and how much we become at the end equates to how much we've pushed against the confinements we'll always be tangled in.  

The cigarettes I don't smoke, the face I used to know and the coolness in the heat. The pretty boy, the perfect music and my laugh. The home inside a home, Lana and my passion. The roll, the smoke, all our songs and the side of her face.