Cause I built you a home in my heart,



With rotten wood, it decayed from the start.
Saturday, May 9, 2009 @ 1:02 AM
Stars.

Then looking upwards
I strain my eyes and try
To tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites
From the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

"Do they collide?"
I ask and you smile.
With my feet on the dash
The world doesn't matter.


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