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Oh, Erica

Girl down the way

Carrying large brown-bagged bottles of liquor,

Nectar to the saddest poets who

Consume,

Consume,

Consume,

In order to consort with the sordid, dichotomous entities,

Enticing visions of vicious enemies

Crouching, kneeling, fighting, feeling,

Fleeing at their visage-

Does she get the message?

One more night of drinking alone.

Calls a far-off friend,

Sad and ******

She asks with a tragic shake in her voice,

“Where did I go wrong?”

In a New York loft she

Groans,

Sighs,

Fumbles over words

That might not mean a thing.

Emily finally declares,

“You are more,

So much more,

So much undeniably more to this world

Than the blood in your veins,

Than the letters in your name,

But the facts remain;

Sometimes you are in love,

But sometimes,

You are never the same.

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j
Written by
jordan-kit
American
Published
Feb 9, 2010
Lines·Words
31·134
Permission

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