Ypsilanti feels deader than Terri Schiavo tonight. Even when the sun seeps out over the skyline like a disgusting infection, the gorgeous site reminds me that sights such as these are just simple infestations of my brain and heart. They carry on and they kill me. The sun is my Spring and the moon is my Summer-- just two more unjust ladies that I
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Plus I will only see you for 15 more days before I am out of that fucking town, and you are there to rot away.
Much love.
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