die in some small way
abstract and
slightly similar to other
small deaths, so I
burry myself in
bukowski
you know, he said
"you have to die a few times before you can really live"
and
that truth hollows me out and
fills me up just the same, that man
honest like some
blue eyed boy and
ariel
this place
these walls
i'll be late for class if I don't gather my feelings up from off of the hardwood
floor or
just leave them there.
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