Tuesday, January 6, 2015

untitled

I buried you
with friends
who could always
see right through
all of the shit that you wouldn't
ever admit to you,

And now I'm old
(I get older by the day):
the fresh earth whispers to me,
"Don't be alone,
don't be alone."

When you spoke I
swore that I grabbed
ahold,
but meaning goes where it will
and ruins the joke.

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