1.1.10

I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My finger in creases of distant dark places


Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me

I'm miles from where you are
I am laying down on the cold ground
and I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms.

snow patrol, i love youuu and I can't wait to see Dear John
which I just finished.

No comments: