emalay
Put a bee hive on my grave, and let the honey soak through. Wish I could bee a be. Don't you?
I almost made it. Almost to the top, almost home, almost done, almost there. But I didn't. And that's when I realized almost would never ever be enough.
If I get swept away by you again, let my feet fly from under me, then what happens when the wind dies down? When the love stops blowing me away? I fall, don't I?
If I give you an example, you'd better take it and realize, no I don't mean that is the situation you are in currently. See the parallels. Please do not confuse with me being and imbecile. Thanks.
writing since 2011 · 5 entries · 5 days shown up
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