so let me slip away...
you seem so different on here than you do in real life when you talk to me.. i dunno if it's your language.. not that i care if you cuss or what the heck you do its just... i dunno... maybe it because i havent seen you in 3 weeks and everytime i think of you i quiver and i finally found the internet in this friggin school to use freely andni got on
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flip-flops on grocery store feet
a girl scout patch
and the cheshire cat
on a standard issue field jacket
painted flowers on denim back
and a knitted flower
on a croched flapper hat
and a kavu purse
with social commentary
in button form
safe in our skin
aren't we perfect here?
show me to the Father
i'll show you why He's real
tell me what i need to do
i'll demonstrate how to feel
a boppin little coffee shop
a busy, tornado-ravaged desk
a house with six heathens to keep
wide-awake nights of so very little sleep
lying here beside you
forever within our reach
everything is fine...always has been...i'm just using my journal as an outlet for bad feelings...i swear...
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