i could retrace every step we've taken from as early as may to as late as december.
the road is as vividly outlined as my eyes,
and i travel it more often then i should,
and i never look back.
i eat, sleep, and breathe those memories.
the weary nights at whoever's.
the one's that still reek of alcohol,
on your breath, breathing hard on my neck.
i still feel that same intoxication,
the one you placed on my shoulders for 6 long months,
that you now keep in that box under your bed,
you know, the same one you keep my soul in.
the ropes hard to climb when all the knots we've tied have all come undone.
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