Forceful
Limp
Broken
Fixed
Flightless
Fightless
Straining
Restraining;
We walk with our heads pointed to the ground, and our feet to the sky;
The luminous night sky, our favorite conflict -
We could have been someone else, had it been those paths, where we were crushed.
It's a long, sad story how we came to be, with ghosts we never knew;
How long our eyes were longing for a spark, somewhere in a coffee shop;
Close your eyes, we have another now, and we have a smile marked across our faces when we look at another; this city has lost its mark on me.
How long can we fetch these words from our mouths?
If any moment we ever grasp the rope, we can stay tied for weeks upon years, not a shred of fear could ever truly move us.
We will be amazing, in our own cookbooks. You made me this way.
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