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Grant Baldwin Sep 2013
I believe in this ghost that walks the steps at night
Jumping up and down
a beast with a story to be written
I believed him when he came knocking

the steps like a beat
of a warm dark night
If ever Christ comes back
lets hope it's a summer

i can't come out in the cold ones
Grant Baldwin Sep 2013
I'll be tucked away
like when last winter fell
I'll write you some letters
The news will be frost bitten
when it gets there

but we're ****** with our fate anyway
Grant Baldwin Sep 2013
Meet me in Kentucky next summer
West Virgina in the fall
I'm just the one you wanna see this winter
Bring a pack

Leave your daddie's Bible
Well sit on some steps
Just kidding each other on the porch come Spring
I'll take you back next summer

My mom told me it wasn't ok to cry
But even the warmest Janurary makes me hide
Grant Baldwin Sep 2013
He stretched wearing his mothers sunglasses on a pool chair, the warmth of the late summer morning shun on his pale skin, like millions of flashes from thousands of adoring fans, snapping photos of a breathless man.
Grant Baldwin Sep 2013
Sitting in some bar and diving into drinks. I stare at some young handsome blond. I wonder how it feel lying beside him. After ten. I'm home. Take a sleeping pill. Getting pancakes after the long sleep. I spot him working at some coffee shop. I order a coffee from him. I imagine him in my bed. Blowing him. I don't even drink coffee.

— The End —