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Maybe it's that marvelous view as they walk away that never seems to compel me to call them back.

Maybe its the happiness of being alone the wind in your hair or the the highways empty embrace that just seems to keep me ruining far longer than the rest.

The bottle the music a simple soundtrack to the existance we only care to forget.

Passion doesn't exit online as machines can't breath life into your lungs but I can't certainly darken your door if only you'd allow me to tonight.

The party we will have only to forget.
You me and the page it's all in secret and  all for them to never truly understand .

Summer may you die.
As all the bad girls sing cheap motels were we gather the ice machine I vist to often underneath the stairs .

I sleep drink repeat .
Trying to find the lines I searched for all the these years past.

From the dust bit in Austin to the Kentucky bourbon embrace I will romanticize the decay only to show you the reality I to often ignore myself .

Another drink shared and hopefully another night with you.

The page can't capture passion .
But I believe I touched upon it more than once with her tonight .

— The End —