AkumuNoNekura

Does a circle split in half and meet its ends upon the path? Am I a whole missing its middle, are you the answer to my empty riddle… The empty riddle or empty space meets on my stomach and knots in place It reminds me your gone it reminds me I’m missing It makes me think of those lips I’m so used to kissing… Kissing and rolling, spinning around We rotated the earth we roamed the ground. Forever joined, forever fused We were sliced we were sewn, we were sorely misused. So I stumble and fumble and crawl in the path …some day soon I want to find my half…