Through Tuesday's in the air
know the end. And what lies beyond.
could not stay, but if I tell you now why I left, would simply return. Myth of eternal return, the day is over.
That night is over. I still hear our voices playing in defiance of the truth. It was both the courage we had, so little that we could give. A bright moon did not want to shut down. Both look to the stars, all that kiss was the sidewalk and a cold shock, numbing. Your pain, I never would have felt. I can not get rid of such a tear, even as I am, away from your breath and your breath.
Here the ground vibrates, the shapes are out of place. At times, your shadow is formed, but never believed in ghosts. My fears are other and are not before or the morning. I do not want you to be alone, but I'm not with you. It just was not written that story and my fists are more closed than ever.
At certain times of day I want to touch you in the distance and feel that I was not wrong when I had the opportunity and I refused.
I'm away from it all while still close. I'm actually walking against the return. Wind pushed me as a natural jerk. But when you bring your voice through all time, wind me down, and sometimes back, I can hear our voices and challenging game of truth. Outside
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