run upwards. and run downwards.

Regardless of what I express lyrically, my soft spot stays with musicians - particularly the ones that manage to weave words in line with some type of tune. It's easier said then done blog family. But, in terms of ocean blue - my neck twists and shoulders roll in ways I long to be understood: "It grows outwards... and it holds you..."

end can be

how beautiful. end can be. i could care less. be - cause caused me to touch. in a reduced physical attempt. as if i was never able to try legitimate. reach for something extendable. this place. i cannot stretch to make a false moment real. but. yet. i once. (new) a lover introduced how affection dips lower than how i felt again. and again with a wobbly knee promise. swearing that nothing could have ever stretched belief to you like i wanted to...
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