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it's not about me, it was never about me
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*AIR i've been here all day
sweeping the dust away
it piles up and explores
'till i hold it captive under the rug behind a certain closed door
i've been inhaling a million different perfumes
ones that have scattered themselves across each part of my room
thet resides themselves, breifly, deep in my lungs
then make a break for it- bursting out with the words fallen off of my tounge
i've been looking at rainbows
within all the words i write
marvaling at the colors and shapes they take
when there clearly black and white
i've been sitting here thinking
yet really doing nothing at all
and it's been that way since
that frist fatful fall
