.
Grab a grip
My breath, my concerns
Don't wanna make them yours
I'm here
I'm running on the sun
Between your beems, forest of light
I want to believe that I wont fall,
even if I'd trip.
Feeling landed. Staying here.
Running on the inside, where not even myself can stop me.
/Carajaula.
.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
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