A soul isn't pretty if it's broken
And honey I'm in pieces
But maybe we can find a way. To find a change in the wind, to blow back the bits that have scattered. Into to something quite not the same, but for once to maybe have something that's a whole.
I am constantly fighting a war as to whether in the end the sky prevails or i will be pulled down into the depths below. And I do not know what will be on the next page, for no one ever will. but nothing will ever stay the same. No one will ever embody the same individual. As what I have viewed so many times before.
For it will not be known as to whether I will fall apart, or be carefully seen back together. We will fly up and down stuck in a middle without an up or down. And that's just the way it is.
