Starting your weekend out with acid means one bitchin weekend. Until you realize two days later the neck pain is actually strep throat. Damnit…..
It’s true, I’ve made a tale of it here.
Still, it’s a little unclear who’s been haunting who.
And time can be such a funny thing, always moving to the future
Glorifying the past and amplifying the pain in frames and glass.
So was our touch half as sacred as I’ve made it seem
Or just another fabrication of a half-dream?
Just those chemicals, the adolescent love.
Just us trying to grasp onto meaning,
Onto a purpose,
Onto a sense that
Something spiritual releases when the feeling hits.
And when the feeling hits.
La Dispute
La Dispute
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