oh, baby,
control is such a strong word
and it is not what i'm after.
i yank your chain a little harder each time i feel as if your urge to
wander
in a state of my self-inflicted paranoia
letting my mind wander this way ain't healthy for neither of us, baby,
i'll never let you go, i say...
i hope the feeling is mutual, love...
so gone ahead and yank my chain a little harder so i know it's real.
YOU ARE READING
past oblivion.
Poetry"what can i really say?" used to be my words, when i didn't know as much. when i got older, i responded to myself. "everything." now, i realize that i can use my breath to speak on everything in existence, from dust on jupiter to the depths of hell...
