here we go

Standard

Finding myself

I’ve gotten so damn good at hiding

I think I’ve lost and now I can’t find me

Am I cold under covers

Waiting for love or

Sitting in the parking lot

Crying over what I haven’t got

Flying over covered ground?

Leaping buildings or on the bound?

Lost in the beauty of the music?

Fallen, skinned and counting bruises?

I never loved me like I should have

And now I’m searching crazy like mad

To bring myself with me like carry-on

I only ever need what already gone.

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