25 August 2012
My manic thoughts don't start to settle. They whistle louder, like a boiling kettle. I haven't written for a little while; got shit on mind that cramps my style.
Soon they'll be this resolution, To wash away, my stress pollution.
And give birth to a new respect, a respect for that which matters.
I now look at all I have And how close things came to end in tatters.
Too Close • Opuss № I