i find myself crossing a pair of my fingers could it be a wish or a lie is it oncoming peace or despair that lingers in each breath of a chest-heaving sigh the tremors that shake me after the quake break me down cause they all signify that last little shift in a continent drift the moment the end just passes you by why does the whiplash hurt more than the impact? the ache in your head makes you realize the glass cracked life flashed through your eyes, but you're alive, still if the crash doesn't get you the whiplash will the sight of your nose throws me back in my chair i only knew noses could smell jumped geronimo style from way up in the air it might have been brave, but i'm still scared as hell the parachute pull has rattled my skull i fumble for ways to propel will gravity greet the ground with my feet it usually does, but you never can tell
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