I've tried to put you down on paper so many times, but you keep getting up. No portrait of a person will ever feel alive until you fill in the eyes. So open them. One of us has to be the artist.
Thunderstorms are just the sound of a restless night, rolling over in its sleep. When I'm tired they say it's just the chemicals in my brain, mixing and un-mixing themselves at the wrong time. I'm just soaking up the moonlight in the window... hoping that each drop of rain is here to wipe away the broken promises.
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