Monday, April 07, 2003

i feel weird.
i feel weird,
is all she said as he walked away, slowly.

forced to create a face.

ketchup flows like the rain of a volcanoe falling down the silly sky.
green isles.

flickers of desire in the form of seeds.
planted in the gr oun d.

growing with unrest.

across my chest the words of time.

erased myself from the line in which i am drawn,
closer to the .

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