THE HILLS

I walk in the air, in between two hills They separate who I am from who I wanted to be Memories float below, walking down the path as they point and laugh At someone who once was and hasn't changed a thing

I remember creeks and birds, dirt and air, numbers and words, Sticks and stones Burn and freeze.

Lights start to flicker, While the walls melt and drip down the river of color and sounds

The mist embraces me, and I get out of this place I hated once before But The Hills haunt and intimidate And I fall in between it's two ends Back to who I am, and who I was

Instagram: @arthurgalvao www.arthur-galvao.com

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