So I've decided I ted to finish more of what I put up and look at regularly than those thing I leave in the bowels of my phone or hard drive or whatever.
Comatose
I can't believe that you would treat me this way
Just leave me within the leaves that landed beneath your feet
So I search the ground below for a trace of your soul
There must be a path beyond this death
And I can't resist the ties to you made in me long ago
Was this a choice you made or was it out of your control
Is there something I can say to help you regain your hold