Seattlite

Pigeon toes, wandering by myself on tiles with a million names. I embraced optimistical possible possibilities. I'm speaking mostly to my subconscious, your sleeping self is speaking too. I'm curious, as I certainly was.

Living in these bones is impossibly boring. I looked up a map to living a sparkling lemonade life but my city pushed me here and i'm marking myself return-to-sender. I'm completely fine and well, but no one's just fine and well with a sparkling lemonade of a life.

Ugh, this confusion. Know that you'll find me, mind pulled back into my core and secure to my spine, back where I was, marked fire on the map. Picture, for one second, a satellite moving around the earth.