...all these kids you can't seem to make sense of would stop holding you so far off the edge of your seats if you'd start holding yourselves to the promises you make. We know you're not perfect, because we're not. And I know I'm not perfect, but I believe I was meant to be.

We both spend our money on things that break too easily like… people.

...others, with halos shaped like rollercoasters you'd stand in line to ride twice.

I am standing like shoe polish on an overstocked shelf hoping that one day someone will pick me to make things better.

Stop inviting walls into wide open spaces.

The future gets no say in who we are.

There was a typewriter buried alive in that horse, the one I road to get out of the flood.