Well I left home and moved into my head, where eyeballs act as windows to a world of pretense. Where hands don’t shake and eyes don’t meet, where clouds take the shape of memories.
Inaudible speech, that sound you’d make when I couldn’t sleep. Soft breath in my ear, and the rustling of sheets in the morning. I want to wake up in a house full of people that I know with your hands around my neck as I lean into your chest. Oh, remind me who I am before I completely forget.
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