A Book For All The Liars.
Verse one: An imagination for a child desperate for an identification. Your eyes gave me all of those desires. Nights were endless but just a loss.
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Verse of Verses: An instinct became an if after you left. Like a sick man with eyes shallow and deeper than my open wounds I became uncomfortable being in that room with you.
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Goodyear: I loved the smell of you, but now yer becomes my no everytime I feel the snow. The snows warmth became iconic. The snow became my envelope that i never opened; it was addressed to me a few years ago. I have yet to see you.