i know everything about my mind.
skulking around in the back of my closet, and i keep dreaming of something that looks like the bowels of the past. but instead of paying attention or paying no mind, i sit there and listen while it scolds me, while it tells me that i'm always wrong, while it tells me that it hopes me and the future are very happy together.
and i don't mean to cry when that song comes back to the chorus, but it sounds like something that i used to call home before it burned down. before it became the ashes i tattooed into my skin.
