you stumble, like a toned-down heart-engine chugging its way across desiccated wastelands and he begins to understand why love is not like this, it's not the way that he remembered, because he breathes, too deep to understand -
and it seems effortless, but to him it's the foul smell of burning rubber - a smokestack desperately teaching itself how to fly; learning how to breathe, again. a hand rises up
and it's gesturing for another way out, a superstition left untouched. clammy fingers clamp down on another lost summer - but you know the path. it's untouched, still blackened from
his fires. and oh, the sounds of wilderness. oh, the heart that beats in your chest. oh, the moon that sings the song that kills the children - they are waiting for you, oh, we all are. and it's desperate. it's me, it's you, it's that summer melody that wants to become you. it wants you to love, to hate, to feel, too much. too much, it thinks. it's beginning to control.
like a raisin dried out by the desert sun. it finds your weak spots, like a tree that falls down while nobody watches. it corrodes your heart.
we want you. come on, I never did say never.







