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morning jog..

running down the street this morning.

i'm thinkin' about a pretty girl (she knows that i have feelings for her).

a snarling burly dog pops out of a rose bush.

i jumped back, ran across the rode and hid in the cemetery.

i was scared, for the first time in quite some time.

i sit against a tombstone and my thoughts shift to my grandma...

burying her was so hard, i sat in that cemetery for an hour and a half crying.

i get home my dad acuses me of getting high while out and wouldn't drop it...

now the bruise under my left eye says i was guilty...

but it just takes his side because he birthed it there..

his knuckles hard and cold...

hiding in my room writing and cying...

i realise soon enough he wont be able to touch me..

sickly it makes me smile..

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Written by
neil-waldron
American
Published
Jul 18, 2010
Lines·Words
14·148
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