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I was still mesmerized by you, leaning against a faded brick wall lazily flicking a cigarette against the 90 dollar jeans I believed you ripped yourself, when your mouth opened and all I saw were those perfect lips, that perfect mouth— your words hardly registering, some blasé speech I bet you pre-rehearsed, “you know, desperate time desperate measures and all that jazz—” with a non-committal hand wave as if accountability was a fly in the air you could swat away. I stared at your hand, suddenly hopeful you’d choke on that Marlboro Red, and realizing the problem with pedestals: there’s no graceful way to fall off.
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Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
The Day You Broke Up With Me
I was still mesmerized by you, leaning against a faded brick wall lazily flicking a cigarette against the 90 dollar jeans I believed you ripped yourself, when your mouth opened and all I saw were those perfect lips, that perfect mouth— your words hardly registering, some blasé speech I bet you pre-rehearsed, “you know, desperate time desperate measures and all that jazz—” with a non-committal hand wave as if accountability was a fly in the air you could swat away. I stared at your hand, suddenly hopeful you’d choke on that Marlboro Red, and realizing the problem with pedestals: there’s no graceful way to fall off.
christina-calvano
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Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
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