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There's a jukebox, in my mind or yours, and it plays my song -- or, maybe, it's for you. And it says what I never could say, which is that I am very sorry. I thought of how I was -- or how we were -- which was not as good as we had hoped for. You protected yourself from remorse and I was fearfully unapologetic. You were, and, probably, still are a cold ***** and I've been a ******* for years. Your nose was so crooked, it could run for office, and my head was -- and still is -- really big, which is fitting, considering my ego, and ironic, since I'm borderline mentally-fucking-retarded. There's an eroding jukebox and its so confrontational, due to feeling inferior, unrecognized, and without a responsible purpose. The music from the machine flows like rushing thoughts, and the thoughts say: I sit and write, I don't mind you when I don't know you. Some people are roots, meant to help with stability, but you are a branch, meant to offer a new view, but also meant to fall off, maybe, killing whomever catches you next.
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Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 2:34 AM UTC
Freshman Year, However Long Ago
There's a jukebox, in my mind or yours, and it plays my song -- or, maybe, it's for you. And it says what I never could say, which is that I am very sorry. I thought of how I was -- or how we were -- which was not as good as we had hoped for. You protected yourself from remorse and I was fearfully unapologetic. You were, and, probably, still are a cold ***** and I've been a ******* for years. Your nose was so crooked, it could run for office, and my head was -- and still is -- really big, which is fitting, considering my ego, and ironic, since I'm borderline mentally-fucking-retarded. There's an eroding jukebox and its so confrontational, due to feeling inferior, unrecognized, and without a responsible purpose. The music from the machine flows like rushing thoughts, and the thoughts say: I sit and write, I don't mind you when I don't know you. Some people are roots, meant to help with stability, but you are a branch, meant to offer a new view, but also meant to fall off, maybe, killing whomever catches you next.
You're, incredibly, full of **** Well, of course; I have to hide, somehow.
joshua-haines
Written by
26/M/American
Jul 29, 2016
Jul 29, 2016 at 2:34 AM UTC
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