Shape the future, rather than fight the past,
Everyone had some sort of quote that had a message
That was vague enough to say something you dont
Have to think too hard about.
The cold truth about snowball theories
Is that one butterfly flapping its wings
Doesnt mean any sort of hurricane is a comin’
When all the other ones are doing the same thing
It all just sort of happens sometimes,
A girl is picking weeds in a field,
Caressly here and there just grabbing at the things
Pulling and twisting, till she hears that satisfying snap
And there is that futility that these things will grow back
No matter what, though this never clicks in your head
Click? What makes a click? Its times like these that you’d be amazed
How lightning fast your mind thinks, if it werent for what it thought
A landmine just armed, your next steps are very important.
The girl lowers herself onto the dirt, it is soft and loose,
She sits and grounds it into her bottom,
stretching out the toes of the foot that is free
one, two, three
it is what it feels like when your leg has fallen asleep.