"Our minds lost in the scape of sheets /Rough paper with marks/ Black ink on the table that bleeds / through the script we follow to the T"
Portland - OR
I’m here and I feel like it’s all making sense. I just need that opportunity.
How dare you speak of grace while you wave your signs of hate right in our face
Go figure…I’d rather pack up and leave to make it all easier. Then let the pieces fall wherever they may fall.
Patience has never been so hard.