This...this is something I thought I needed to post with you all. I haven't been a member here long, but I feel very comforted by the atmosphere within the community. I feel like you're all being not only creative, but also just, honest with your art. So here is...an emotion I never thought I would be able to get into words this properly. This song, the time of it all, strung by things I'm not sure I'll feel again. And I suppose, its about the idea of measuring it all in age. Regardless, thank you for giving me somewhere I feel I can share this, hitRECord.

Tell me open up the blinds,
and count the seasons by twisting arms.
The art is crooked every time I look,
or maybe staggering since June
has worn me down to tilted views.
And get tired of tossing, searching for your frame;
trudging back, I miss your name
attached to mine.

Because of you, I am this way.

And if I call tonight,
hang up.
There is nothing I can say
that I couldn't yesterday.
And forgetting smells on clothes
I should've tossed three months ago;
they don't belong to anyone.
And I won't own to sleeping,
clinging,
to a blouse.

Because of you, I am this way.

And tell me open up the blinds,
and count the seasons by twisting
arms.