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I've run on this treadmill; a heavy load of love and sweat on my shoulders. I'm falling, but I can't seem to hurt myself. In the face! I've been dragging, this foot. Around. for a while. and some. A pain - throbbing vain. Right here. A microsecond of hope. A sip of this diamond studded. jar. she has said all the words. those beautiful ones. the trail of her gown. stuck -- between his jaws. she has spoken. your words. those wholesome ones. the secret in her smile caught -- within his fists. I've travelled on this bicycle; nights and miles. rags. dust and bags. This heart of yours, I've found last week. stabbed. ****** and somehow tamed, out of its blood. I've asked, what'd happened - you can't fix that old shoelace -- anymore.
0
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 12:56 AM UTC
Fake ID's and Footsteps
I've run on this treadmill; a heavy load of love and sweat on my shoulders. I'm falling, but I can't seem to hurt myself. In the face! I've been dragging, this foot. Around. for a while. and some. A pain - throbbing vain. Right here. A microsecond of hope. A sip of this diamond studded. jar. she has said all the words. those beautiful ones. the trail of her gown. stuck -- between his jaws. she has spoken. your words. those wholesome ones. the secret in her smile caught -- within his fists. I've travelled on this bicycle; nights and miles. rags. dust and bags. This heart of yours, I've found last week. stabbed. ****** and somehow tamed, out of its blood. I've asked, what'd happened - you can't fix that old shoelace -- anymore.
Written by
Sudanese
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 12:56 AM UTC
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