11/08/08 12:40 PM
with the night comes a song, recklessly
back against the wall. unlit cigarette in hand.
i have lived a hundred lifetimes over
in the form of people, whose shadows have ceased
to
stain my pages
quietly.
-
believe me when i tell you
too soon you will forget.
-
speak of names. littering your wall
marked chatter, infinite, leaping off
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