| i am no other half no. maybe i am not meant to be, not ment to be anything double or full. Take your compasses, let them lead you past the asylum's walls, and watch, watch... i will pass through like a ghost, my time made of cars crawling over the asphalt. i will drive on, crawl slowly, slowly... i will learn to be a skeezix, to function on my own behalf, though i am only half. scrape,scratch, drag, along the surface, until i fall to new love. |