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I’ve come unraveled
I’ve come undone
I’ve been burned by more than just the sun
I’ve made mistakes
I’m not immune
My walking music’s out of tune
It’s as if I don’t know what to do
What it is, I want to pursue
So I dillydally, and wait my turn
I guess some people never learn
Thanks so much for your concern
But my urge is gone, set fire, burned
Extinguished for posterity
And sealed tightly with a kiss
In a hundred years
There’s not a chance
I’ll be remembered well or missed
Capone-N-Noreaga
chillin' out with
Lou Bega,

names are not all
about gangsta's
some are about
music.
I smile
so I don't have to lie

I seem
so I don't have to be

I drink
so I don't have to think

I write
so I don't have to scream
I feel the weight of nearly a hundred moons upon this suggestive flight deck, overtaken by transfusion in a high formation rhythmic way. Fluorescent headphones—neon red, rotate around neutral zones. Push in, pull out. Swim under the pink, towards some aerobatic link to mother earth. And still, we're not in orbit yet. Your dawning glow you blow into my lungs. Will you catch me if I blast away?
along the edge, the edge
of season. the coast with
slow limits.

the glass anomaly
swept the edges
golden, in proportion.
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