No matter how little I eat in the day, no matter how faint I feel, no matter if I throw up right in front of him.
He doesn’t care. He doesn’t take me seriously, ever. When I’m 95 pounds will he? Probably not.
Hearts and thoughts they fade away.
So take my hand, this barren land is alive tonight. The corn has grown stalks that form a wall too high. But the wind carries sounds that I cant see from beyond that line.