Vigor pumps in my veins, a boombox below my skin,
Blasting through kidneys and ribs;
My insides rumbling rough and raw against each other in each quake.
Pulsation fills my ears; the precious parts of me-
Saturated in it’s grandeur.
Sepia-tinted surroundings mean
This smoke is too thick for me to be and,
I’ll be left tumbling and,
If you ask me where I am I’ll say everywhere and,
I see only through a kaleidoscope and,
If you ask where I am I’ll say anywhere and,
Her eyes light beam like the headlights that took me home and,
For too long, I think they are your’s.
For too long, I think they are your’s.