new. 

new.

if i jumped now i think the clouds might reach out to catch me sometimes the most beautiful things are kept locked inside ourselves. but your eyes, the hold the secret, to see the beauty yet to be found in the world. you are the song i sing. when things get rought or to hard for your arms to hold, whisper my name, ill help you carry yourselr. the cruelty of this riddle you've given me resounds in my head, screaming for away out. as do you and your memories. sometimes the most beautiful things are kept locked inside our selves.