silly poem

deadnote

i keep learning the future
it dissapears
with tomorrows thoughts
i think i feel it
i try to respond
but i got nothing
to show for the hurt
i dont hold on
as tight as i should
but i do hold on
to the bluest of moons
and the tomorrows
that come
when i fall asleep late
are the closest of nights
from bein alone

i guess you could say
my girl
is the sky