Pachuca Sunrise
"At this moment, where I sit,
none of it seems real"
It'll catch up to you.
none of it seems real"
Grip and control, none of which moments I stammer with the rerun of a night I'd been bored in half, in thirds, right in the middle, right, always the left.
Three things engulf my morning; you and you and me. I'm a prick that survived with a bag of luck and drilling wishes. How I got here, and get there, is out of my guesses. I'll get what I deserve, soon enough.
I patiently hunch with the heaviness of a nothing. Of an emptiness. Of a void so filled I feel guilty it's empty. I have nothing to say to anyone. Nothing but to blame that it's what I listen to that's making me so dark. But I haven't seen the sun in 4 days, how dark could I possibly get?
Desperation of my ever silent calls, I can't get myself to cry. I'd cry. I'd cry better than keeping my mouth shut, my eyes closed, and ear-splitting conversations and gestures that chews me out.
I discovered the accumulation. A collection and recollection, recycled used and abused. Creased papers I'd eventually memorized and new lines that proves further how I deserve the holes I'd gained. I slam pictures down, rainy songs. I breathe easy, wash you off, and slip into something a little less comfortable. A little more appropriate.
A soft white of knuckles feels soft cotton that I returned to, and just the right words to tell me,Three things engulf my morning; you and you and me. I'm a prick that survived with a bag of luck and drilling wishes. How I got here, and get there, is out of my guesses. I'll get what I deserve, soon enough.
I patiently hunch with the heaviness of a nothing. Of an emptiness. Of a void so filled I feel guilty it's empty. I have nothing to say to anyone. Nothing but to blame that it's what I listen to that's making me so dark. But I haven't seen the sun in 4 days, how dark could I possibly get?
Desperation of my ever silent calls, I can't get myself to cry. I'd cry. I'd cry better than keeping my mouth shut, my eyes closed, and ear-splitting conversations and gestures that chews me out.
I discovered the accumulation. A collection and recollection, recycled used and abused. Creased papers I'd eventually memorized and new lines that proves further how I deserve the holes I'd gained. I slam pictures down, rainy songs. I breathe easy, wash you off, and slip into something a little less comfortable. A little more appropriate.
It'll catch up to you.
_
