You threw the first punch like a stone through the window of the house that your mother built in the fall of ‘91. She was silent. And I never said a single word, she could die here or alone. This tension that runs straight through our bones and nobody knows just how bad this hurts. All the apathy we inhale in our lungs, we try to get by but we’re coming undone. It’s hard to breathe when you’re coughing up smoke. But it’s too hard to leave when the dream never broke. So replace me, it’s what we both want. I’ll be the picture on your wall crumbling to dust. So I ran for miles to every length of this city. Every street light tried to stopped me, but I just kept running. And I can’t contain the urge to get myself away. Everytime I should feel comfort, I feel stagnant at best..
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