my love has concrete feet
I am writing graffiti on your body I am drawing the story of how hard we tried I am watching your chest rise and fall like the tides of my life, and the rest of it all and your bones have been my bed frame and your flesh has been my pillow I am waiting for sleep to offer up the deep with both hands.
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I will find a way

To destroy this stereo at work that has been playing Christmas music for the past two weeks already, and is sure to be playing it till after Christmas is over. You will die.