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There's a certain moment when you have to cry. A certain word, a certain tone, a certain piece of **** who can't wait to say how everything has gone to hell whispers in your fragile ears and then it's over. You could shrug, you could laugh rubbing those tell-tale torrents away claiming allergies or dry contacts and you'll know, they'll know and pretend together. You could try cowardice and run finding safe haven in fuzzy socks and tired pillows. But what you won't do is two-fold: There is no holding back a broken dam nor is there drowning its heedless audience. But today it's me not you and I need your half-hearted hugs your awkward comforts. Anything, really. I don't care if you suffocate. I won't tell you particulars you won't give me advice and that way we'll never disappoint the other. No waterfalls just a pond the perfect inaction of soul and body.
0
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 6:43 AM UTC
Perfect Inaction
There's a certain moment when you have to cry. A certain word, a certain tone, a certain piece of **** who can't wait to say how everything has gone to hell whispers in your fragile ears and then it's over. You could shrug, you could laugh rubbing those tell-tale torrents away claiming allergies or dry contacts and you'll know, they'll know and pretend together. You could try cowardice and run finding safe haven in fuzzy socks and tired pillows. But what you won't do is two-fold: There is no holding back a broken dam nor is there drowning its heedless audience. But today it's me not you and I need your half-hearted hugs your awkward comforts. Anything, really. I don't care if you suffocate. I won't tell you particulars you won't give me advice and that way we'll never disappoint the other. No waterfalls just a pond the perfect inaction of soul and body.
allison-wright
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Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 6:43 AM UTC
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