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 Mar 2013 Shashank Virkud
Lydia
Oh well were riding at 8 in the morning with
this bowl making rounds inside a
car with
a heater thats a *******
and
Man, its March. When will it finally warm up?
The girl with the eyes
That crinkle at the sides
That shows she hasn't lost faith in the world just yet.

Don't look at me
I'm not talking about me!
I've seen the good, the bad and the ugly.

And what it boils down to
Is that we're all just ghosts
With our own missed connections
And transparent ambitions.

But that girl with the eyes
That crinkle at the sides
She's got an oyster in a shell,
Waiting for her pearl hotel

Holding on to the idea
That she has a role to fill
But the time will pass
And she'll see that
She's just another ghost with a past.

And when the world has no more girls with the eyes
That crinkle at the sides
I'm convinced we'll all vaporize

And the air will fill with our dusty dreams

And settle to the ground in a thick, ***** film

Then, like a pillow torn at the seams

The cycle will begin again

Starting with white, fluffy hope,
Next comes the question,
Then hits the reality,
And last is the dark, dark feeling that you were wrong all along.

Because, face it...
There is no meaning to life.
 Mar 2013 Shashank Virkud
Brooke
I smell a home cooked meal
Which does not make any sense
Because all that exists here
Is bitter coffee
And undercooked rice.
A boy

One boy turned out to be Jesus

One boy
Look! ..........a boy
---
When Jesus looks
What does he see!?

A Boy!!

Or Jesus?
I made love
To the ****** Mary
--
I said "are you still a ******?"

"Of course" she said
------
When people say that you shouldn't have ***
until you are married

do you think that are saying that *** is bad
Or that you shouldn't so easily say you're
in love?
----
When you leave someone you say you don't love anymore,
You feel liberated

If that same person were to leave you first,
You would feel hateful

What is wrong with this picture?
--
How can immature people run a world?
----------
 Mar 2013 Shashank Virkud
Mary
Boys (all of them) are blank (and impossible to read (unless you know Braille (because touch is the only thing they respond to))) when mania strikes, step back. The words come flying off pages and peeling off the most beautiful greasy hair (catch yourself here or you'll regret it)(catch yourself here or you'll send away your pride via text message). Timing will always be off (and always your fault). Boys (all of them) smell like cigarettes and pine needles (even if they don't smoke (especially if they do)). Boys (all of them (all of them)) are delicious and contagious and a few hop steps (up or down) from a puppy (moderate hop steps). They'll disorient you with a maze of charm and a good bit of ignorance (until they don't buy your coffee (not that you wanted them to (but an offer would be nice (it's just polite)) because it might break your heart). (You might be overreacting though, so don't blame it all on them (all of them). (but it's your struggle (theirs is to resist your perfume and dainty ankles (or whatever they like (they've never told me))) to be frustrated and in awe all at once). Tell me (boys) is it torture (to be (correct be verb) so hyper aware(while we're on the topic I should remind you (all of them) this isn't spiteful (it's regret))? To be your own defeat? I've never felt this way (it's a matter of contradistinction). Cocky ******* (all of them).
if self improvement* was ********
I would be ******* everywhere
dedicated to Fight Club
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