Sore from Solitude
I wouldn’t have it any other way
Unmaintainable
I work to reshape the soft clay
–
When all of this is over I won’t even know it
It’ll hit me when I’m miles away
Ankle deep in adventures that don’t belong to me
Calm, cut and quiet
Hesitant hands in the outside world
One misstep misplaces me drastically on this spinning globe
Long live the war between my head’s hemispheres
Never ending is the blessing and balancing of contradicting ideas
–
Chronically and phonetically writing my truths
I should honestly lie more to myself
For the sole sake of mental health
Ironically and moronically to save my youth
Andrew/Borger/Writes 