i've played the calender game..
day's have turned into weeks..
.. weeks have turned into months..
which just means..
.. that those months turned into stress.
it's crazy,
how..
i can not know much about love.. yet know soooo much about life..
if I could just have sense made outta this.. then it'd be so much clearer..
so i'm waiting, wondering.. like..
a ship stick out at sea..
a soldier's family in wartime..
a confused teen just trying to make it through life..
.. hell, aint that the truth.
dreams aren't sweet anymore..
.. they're about as sour as this whiskey can get.
my side? hell, i only could wish that was the proper label..
when the only time it's mine is when i'm calm enough to give a shit.
& maybe i'm cold.. maybe i'm not the same..
.. at least i'm still something..
... & that's only half of the time.