Thursday, December 15, 2011

Day 877: home

i can hear you chest rising from the bottom bunk
the way the breathe breaks against the ceiling
it sounds like you are dreaming of something exciting
i hope you hold those kind of memories where no one can touch them
where no one would dare try
to tlel you
you're living it all wrong
to tell you we failed
we dont know nothing about getting it right
but this sure

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