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virgil-deckard
American
Narroweyesfeeblemindsthanks,butI'dpreferto beachildleftbehindcrosshairsblankstaresoutofsyncandtimeandmindandlineconcernedreturnediwishthewindwouldtrytochime.
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May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
Head, space
you meet with success while I meet myself halfway I drain myself for you because you're always drained halfway this turn of events born of a turned phrase has got me thinking of better days
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Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
Entitled
Ive felt the touch Ive ridden the rides Ill be the sand You be the tide well get together Only to sigh Lets just pretend we're not dead inside
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Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 1:39 PM UTC
Four score and seven cares ago
She wonders why she's well traveled As she takes the most obvious roads Peeling my skin off never felt so good. Quiet chuckles turn to cackles, Eyes turn to holes Peeling of my skin never felt so good. I keep a firm grip on my jealousy While she grips greasy hands Peeling my skin off never felt so good. She'll take her clothes off later But she'll never lay bare Peeling my skin off never felt so good.
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Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
nice guys always finish last
Limp, lingering, low it hangs overhead like a nagging grammatical error It hangs overheard like the sagging breast i never looked for/ we chomped at the bit til our teeth fell out but i never liked food much anyhow well hung, but only on semantics rusty, rotten, ridgid, romantic Its starting again because lord only knows I can hold a grudge so much better than a pose
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Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC
sour
seven years seven itches riches to rags rags to riches a bursted bubble bursts no more a Jackson ******* on the floor
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Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 1:21 PM UTC
unlightenment
there is a certain brand of peace I believe can only be found in the absence of people and things and sound but in the land of the loud this sort of talk breeds distrust they've forgotten that our father was a pile of dust
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Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 11:00 AM UTC
reading in undertones
a  humming flourescent bath singing the blandest tune and a sticky tile line graph forecasting certain doom as time weaves a boring stretch on his relentless loom it occurs to me I'm still the worst part of this room
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 3:39 PM UTC
seven six seven six seven six
the snow is falling pure and white, cleansing us all an age old cycle
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Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 4:08 PM UTC
window scenes (haiku)
I got just what I wanted of that much i am sure. though I forgot I only get what I don't want anymore.
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Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 8:11 PM UTC
vain veins