Music: Modern Baseball
You hold my hand
You hold your liquor
Projection screen
Had ceased it’s flicker
You gave me tiny tastes of your truth
I was starved
And you were full
I drove back home
When you got sicker
Disputing claims
That you still held
The TV clicker
Annas face was flushed
It’s still in my mind
The waiter asked
If she was high
You need to hide
It’s in your framework
Look me in the eyes
And act like I don’t know how shame works
Your compass spins in reverse
The trees do time lapse speed growth
Your sky is lost behind
A sea of green
She’s acting like she knows what’s up
She’s dripping that devoted stuff
Breaking like her bread won’t puff
She’s sipping from that holy cup
Waking up every day is all about
Doing things you don’t want to do
But your reward is you get to wake up