Dear You,
A backpack full of memories, added with your collection, when a heart and compass collide, has you seeking a different direction. Not even needing a match, the remaining bridge has burnt, with the cord being pulled, flow remains in the current.
Now overthinking things, checked reasons you are gone, with no eraser up for grabs, before written in a song. Going nowhere on my own, without a turn in sight, with the vision of sunny days, means getting through the night.
Carried stitches in confidence, it remains highly spoken, sewing not the answer here, more in the lines of broken. With a mechanic being needed, does it require fixing, without all the proper parts, there will always be something missing.
©kylelee1
K