it's been a month.

all i want to say, and all i think i am destined to hear, surfaces to the top of my mind through the words of this song. my mind is like a lake filled with fresh fish that will never be caught, for my strength is to tired to cast a line.

"return, return to the person that you were. and i will do the same, because it is too hard to belong to someone who is gone. my compass spins. the wilderness remains...
well, now, i tell myself i've mended, under these patches of blue sky. there are still a few holes that let in a little rain. so it is cying on my shingles. my floorboards moan under my feet. the refrigerator is whining, so i've got reason to complain.
you can save face but you won't ever save your soul. and that's a fact."
bright eyes, make war.