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Feb 2016
I wish I could write about this
Yet every sentence
Seems to be a run onn,
Intertwined with the lines
On the road that my mind is drawn to

My phone keeps buzzing
And my mind is shut off
5 missed calls
4 people saying
3 words,
Don't leave us.
The bass of my brash decision
Pushes on my leg,
Reminding me to stay in my lane.
2 times I tried to pull off these vines
That drag me to this train station
Of the dark side of my mind,

I get out of my car,
Hands sweating,
The air seems heavy
As I beckon to the ticket office

I say hi
Yet the ticket clerk looked low to the ground
As she shreds the ticket
From her defunct hair
Causing the gates to limbo adjacent from her open.
I take a deep breath
And I take
1 step forward
Jason Cirkovic
Written by
Jason Cirkovic  27/M/Colorado
(27/M/Colorado)   
  858
   Brent Fisher
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