Monday, April 23, 2012

You can't let the fear in
Not yet.
Not here in your bed,
the one your last love gave.
Not here in your mother's
old, cream colored hoody.
Not here misspelling words,
wondering at some tunnel vision
pipe dream already gone out
the sewage side of the city of some girl.
Some girl.
Someone would be nice.
She would be nice.
That book will keep your company.
Two hundred and fifty two pages left.

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