Four days left.
I'm already itching to head out the door.
I don't even want to bring that book tomorrow.
as I fill these pages with ink and false remarks
all that's left is a stale taste of relief.
I'm sorry to say, but within the next four
pages of this life, we'll leave and move on.
Maybe not for some of us, but for most, it's
sadly the truth. so stop looking at me and step
out that door. you don't understand that I've
been realizing this ever since my foot first
stepped into these halls. I'm leaving
with a bitter taste in my mouth. With my hands
held down and feet stepping out. Soon it'll
be done. Soon we'll be feeling infinite.
While we wait for the sweet kiss of relief
We wait at the door, with our hearts in our hands
Let go. Let's forget what's all around and
just feel infinite.
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