Tuesday, July 23, 2002

14 units of time have yet to calm me.
its the fear that feeds me, keeps me.
similar to a foreign forehead, i crouch.
at the uncertainity, the spontaintity.
i dont like to call it hiding, but it is.
i hide from the indulgence or want.
makes me think of you,
and what i want, but i don't really want it.
i think i do though.

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