There are times that you go outside yourself. Parts of you walk around and leave and become their own thing.
They come back and let you know how life is away from yourself. The struggles you don't know of. The hurt, the happy, the times you do not exist within.
What takes the plan ed that is left? What fills the void? Does it ever not have ragged nerve endings?
Booze, bikes, babes. Well, not so much the last one.
Bump in the timing. Breathers that are clogged. Bad shift. Bald tires. Blown lights or fuses.
Boy, I need to be riding.
I heard the words. I was just wanting to fix it. It didn't matter what the issue was.
Sometimes, not always, you just want someone to listen. Not plan to fix it. Not wait for their turn to talk and give solutions.
Why did I not just listen?
What you are saying was important. But the exact words, but the meaning.
