Right Now

Jul 02, 2009 11:03


Grains keep slipping through the slot
A brown paper bag to catch them all
We grip on tight and tilt our heads
Soothing our itch We taste the sun
Burning drops will soon run dry
Searing holes..
We thought we filled
We thought we filled
We thought were filled.

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Comments 2

rudegrl_523 July 2 2009, 23:02:57 UTC
Preach sista gurl

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drmrchik06 July 10 2009, 05:14:02 UTC
WE DONT TALK ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! >.

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