Thursday, November 15, 2012





I sometimes think about you
When the stillness of a late night car ride home
Starts to make me itch to get out
Of this car, of this skin, of this mess
A mess as beautiful as its creator

But there is only so much beauty one can possess
Before it is dawned upon that such beauty knew only superficiality
And was only manifested through honeyed words

I had never known good vocabulary, 
grammar and discernment
Would prove to be the equation

Of my biggest disappointment

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