Perhaps this was always the point in the horizon that we were headed for
the lost land pushed through like a pin prick in our collective consciousness
I've suffered with deja vu my entire life, maybe
I'd hoped to reach a point where it made sense, that, or anything
Skin is a neutral smell, holding a rock that fills my palm, standing in the rain
sensations distinct from the slough of sadness
steady me against and rising anguish,
relieve the mundane burden of adulthood.
the lost land pushed through like a pin prick in our collective consciousness
I've suffered with deja vu my entire life, maybe
I'd hoped to reach a point where it made sense, that, or anything
Skin is a neutral smell, holding a rock that fills my palm, standing in the rain
sensations distinct from the slough of sadness
steady me against and rising anguish,
relieve the mundane burden of adulthood.
