| title track
left uninspired by the crust of railroad earth that touched the lead to the pages of your manuscript. i took my thumb off the concrete and saved up all my strength to hammer pillars for a picket fence. it wasn't quiet what it seemed: a lack of pleasantries (my able body isn't what it used to be). i must admist i was charmed by your advances: your advantage left me helplessly into you. talking how the group had begun to splinter and i could taste your lipstick on the filter... i tried my best to keep my distance from your dress but call-response overturns convictions every time. my memory cannot recall: a wave of alcohol we shared a cigarette and shaved the hours off. lushing with the hallway concregation, my best judgement signed its resignation. i rushed this. we moved too fast, and tripped into the guestroom.
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| im tired of life right now. |
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