Air Tight
By Chad
Messages broken down to three words left without meaning, but softer than you want. If I could decipher you and me, it's not like I wanted this for free. Whatever you noticed somehow it passed me by. Whatever I promised somehow, sounded fine. Keep calling out my name and somehow make it feel right. You say it like it means something more than a cage. Well, maybe that's a white lie, you keep telling me to feel fine. And I'll cross the street to meet you again.Bit of a strange one this. I was reading over some of my older poems (after a few glassess of wine) and found one about an old "memory". Decided to put into words an old feeling I've never really wanted to explore before. I guess this is just me finally explaining why the "memory" ended. Isn't hindsight a wierd thing =) Written April 20th, 2002 © on Apr 20 2002 09:29 AM PST 20 • 0 • 10
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"Messages broken down to three words..."