the hands that seperate us
are dirty and damaged.
they bruise anything they
get next to.
they catch up with me sometimes,
touch me raw and rip me to pieces.

they never catch up with you.

you hate me for this, i know.
alittlemoreso
every day.
but if i were a bird, you'd want
to hold me, all dirt and bruises aside.
so i'm stealing one more breath,
i'm gathering up my nerve.
i'm gonna learn to fly for you boy

i'm gonna learn to fly
today.

06/23/2003

Posted on 06/24/2003
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