"Lesson"

"Lesson"

Khatoon Hazara ||| 1:41pm ||| Bold, Italic ||| 12 pt. font ||| Times New Roman ||| Color: Blue

:43

:44

There is comfort in the way you hold me, I make up my own dreams out of desired memories

I am not in the ways of the rooted people

Those of you that know, know me to be the way I am often

I am not in the least bit sorry

<[-] Italic; [-] Blue> (Black) There is nothing <[-] Bold> nothing that can be said that has not already been said.

I am over again

and over

and over

again

again

again

<Increased font: 12 to 16> 

I am into the ways of my mind and that says a lot about my virtue of values, reflected in mirrors of smoke. <16 to 12>

There is absolutely nothing left to say, only that I have learned and burned and crashed and thrashed and thwarted and shorted a load of temperments and I am not willing to go back to the ways of the old.

Move on.

Forth

Onwards we rise.

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