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a short poem/song. about a girl, and our future.
See I had this idea
We would find a place
Ripe age of nineteen
Waking up with your face

Something like a Sunday
Lazy, tryin to stay awake
Two kids who beat the blues
I’m gonna get it out of you

So a million phone calls
Constructed this construction
“I miss you” and all its functions
It must mean something

One room apartment
This is how we’d start it
9 out of 10 you’d agree
But the other one
Well those no other one

I’ve been marking the miles and minutes
As the seconds sting
Patient girl,
We’ll have everything

My lady my lady, oh
Retractable claws
Dig into me,
And relax your jaws
We’ve been talking for so long
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