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*Before you know it, or perhaps after you know it, but too soon, too soon all the same-- growing old-- the men are scarce.* He took my hand in his, his hand in mine we walked beside the water-- the moon reflects in the choppy waves but light pollution dims the stars and fogs his eyes. *Sometimes you still get it from a bullet imagining fishnets around your ankles and your dress on the floor--* He sings and it is a beautiful thing when I think about the past-- everything has led up to this but this will soon be over, and over again-- *--pick up the pieces-- the lamp lies on the floor and shards, the remains of an ****** still lingers in your pupils but **** you never liked it that way, anyway.* He tells me I'm scatterbrained. I tell him I'm planning *Why are you bleeding why are you bleeding why are you bleeding?* something to write but there's no It's over, it's over, and over again. tension.
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Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
Scatterbrained, he says
*Before you know it, or perhaps after you know it, but too soon, too soon all the same-- growing old-- the men are scarce.* He took my hand in his, his hand in mine we walked beside the water-- the moon reflects in the choppy waves but light pollution dims the stars and fogs his eyes. *Sometimes you still get it from a bullet imagining fishnets around your ankles and your dress on the floor--* He sings and it is a beautiful thing when I think about the past-- everything has led up to this but this will soon be over, and over again-- *--pick up the pieces-- the lamp lies on the floor and shards, the remains of an ****** still lingers in your pupils but **** you never liked it that way, anyway.* He tells me I'm scatterbrained. I tell him I'm planning *Why are you bleeding why are you bleeding why are you bleeding?* something to write but there's no It's over, it's over, and over again. tension.
heather-butler
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Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
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