I see the sign. The pavement looks so nice tonight.
The suns warmth is deceiving.
It makes us believe that winter has ended early.
We know it never does.
The trees tried to touch the sun and I pray for the iron towers to fall.
Kill me softly.
And if I choose to get off of this road.
I am afraid that I'll get stuck again.
He said to me it's time to bloom.
