Break me if I'm to be broken dreams killed as first words are spoken atlas lines define who we are flyers glide taking us so far chalk lines contain our fantasies light hearts dismissed with maturity

I can't see the writing that's on the pavement it seemed so clear before and not as focused on behavior it's just me or were things just different back then drawings left up on the wall solely judged now on appearance I can see an aged figure easily burning like a cigarette memories littered with regret will this be my fate or a premonition woken from my sleep with visions of my reflection I'm just getting that feeling back when I thought
I'd lost what I had