I wonder where they went? The things we felt when we were kids. When there was a purpose to everything we did. Like driving to New Jersey to play to a crowded room, or taking off our shirts, blowing kisses at the moon. Time is moving faster than I want it— the days are months are years and I wanted more from them. I wonder where they went? I wish could find them, know them as more than gone things. I wish that I could slow down.
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