Can't Be

When you unconsciously wipe your subconscious clean of dirt.   

Squeeky clean with a hint of charcoal and a click of delete.  

2.6 gb of data, seems like it should have been more.  

Seems like it’s be around forever, in a zone, hitting that, wiped clean.  

Forever away, as it should have been.  

Tonight, that form is gone. 

Now the possibilities of the expansion of wings. Glowing bright in the sun’s light.  

As far away, yet held by my own love.  

Grounded into the dirt of the train tracks.  

Can't be over run.