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May 2012
I miss always being behind one,
But I'm too tempermental by the things you say to me,
There's always another happiness to **** time,
And I'm convinced you can't bite your tongue,
But you just as easily bit mine.

Lay down, think of silly things, and feel seventeen,
Stop moving and don't breathe, it's so serene,
For all we know we were built to last,
But I'm the only one to acknowledge that,
I wouldn't hurt so often if I didn't mean it,
But those words are as tender as the scars on your wrists.

You ask, "Will my car drive today?"
My reply, "I don't know. Will my heart die today?"
Mark Boucher
Written by
Mark Boucher  New Jersey
(New Jersey)   
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