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Nov 2013
It wasn't the promises slung around my neck
by your arms rigid with acceptance
and an unfamiliar love.

It wasn't the sticky skinned summer nights
wrapped in our friends sheets
stealing undeserved kisses.

It wasn't backstage buried beneath piles of wood
or sorted between hunks of metal
next to the man I could never be.

It wasn't a ****** spotlight or an applause that
really wasn't meant for me
or even for us, but for them.

It wasn't a song written by a boy who
never stood a chance standing in the shadow of
a blonde haired
blue eyed
somebody.

It was finding solace in hearts and minds that
like mine
were not suited for the monochromatic
day to day
parking lot prison breakout
of the afternoon.

Yours
that were too distracted by the
galaxies carved between our bones pressed so
tightly together
and the symphonies inked between our teeth.
Written by
Timmy Johnston  Minneapolis
(Minneapolis)   
694
 
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