April 14, 2011
Pressure's rising;
static air building to consume

We are stuck between the glass,
watching both worlds at once,
but we still can't handle outselves
in either one

I clutch the bottle of pills by my side,
before the rain fogs the rear window,
and Anna disappears with the wind

Let me be alone with this
criss you have nailed me to;
I am obsolete, even in sleep

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