Wish-wash thought process
Hot air balloon stuck in the throat For the thought of having found you Do you hear that? Drummers beat to the September sun's heat Luring the lonely souls to write their sheet Of paper. Fill it with their emptiness. Can you hear their pens echoing through their emptiness? Shhh... Lover's summer ended in a vortex of stuck, Purified air. Do you feel that? Long walks in avoidance of one another In the full dark that never should end Just so you're stuck there with me Inside, safe and warm, calm. Revealing the gracious glam that makes us lost To be nothing when apart. Can't you see that? Shhh... Quiet air, quiet fair, quiet heart and scrap the fall.