tire pressure or is it tired of pressure?

texas air.

so much swirling around in it.

excitement.

and anger.

and a lot of other things.

i hate that we do this.

and that you expect it of me.

you really do pressure me.

its not your fault.

i do it to myself.

and your not as bad as the others.

i've lied.

and cheated.

and stole.

and you know nothing of it.

straight to your face.

and you need an introduction.

although i need to find the person first.

new plants.

and new water.

and new life.

your going to be my lifetime heart.

beating against...

everything.

no dnaeil, im not writing a blog.

all day long.

although i could.

if i wanted to.

pry the window open.

and slide on in.

no one is going to catch you.

what would you do?

let it slip through the cracks?

or would you tighten your grip?

i guess i found my answer.

oh yeah, i remember those days.

they were far far away.

and this is like a repeat.

of all the same.

i love the power.

im addicted to the roar.

and the motion.

you are my pink bag.

my running engine.

i think ive had a little too much b52s.

lighten the hair.

and leave the excess behind.

little pink polka dots.

why am i obsessed?

oh, laundry.

yes yes.

so the story is.

home again.

and things are the same.

but not.

because it will just not be.

i care far too much.

probably.

for this type of thing.

just an old fashioned kinda girl.

in a messed up world.