Lori Denae My Time
Making sweet peace sour
I don't belong here
I've been sleeping in the shower
Caught in between gears
*oceans ahead landfills behind
Flawed to its core by my design
I can feel it sliding through my hands
This my time*
Trouble finds its purpose
I'm trying to find mine
I'm afraid it's too urgent
I'm last in my own line
No interruptions
No more abruptions
My head isn't ringing
And noises aren't stinging
