That Red Thing We Use To Pump Blood.

The wind calls my name.

It's time I listened.

With a hint of shame.

I forget my intuition.

One step, Then two.

The moments now at hand.

I always knew.

But now understand.

Im gone with the wind.

It's not just a cliche.

I was only chagrined.

With nothing left to say.

It's been taken right out.

I finally believe.

I promise without doubt.

That I will not leave.

...