grandpas playing checkers in nightmares
and my transitory bowl of cereal i care
about all of the things that i discovered from last year
how we hibernate when we are faced with all our fears
and everything was black and white like in the newspapers
when she said all the words that made you appreciate her
slicing all the stems and hands of roses and daisies
what if you said hello into a cave and then maybe
you’d go home
you’d go home
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lascaux reblogged this from 26th and added:
my little tunes here
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