Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Tearing.

Thrown into the gutter- squirming and numb- but you shined your darkness and scraped off the scum.
I tore through the tough and got through to rough but it's better than the soft because I'm stuck like I'm cuffed.
Leaving all the marks like our initials in the bark of the tree in the garden of our minds we will embark.

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