Thursday, December 10, 2009

UNHINGED

Being severed from serenity ain't
an easy wound to lick.
Uprooted from native soil, ya know?
Little black address book is filled with numbers that never call.

Forgetting faces, trying to track down memories. Trying to read a map that's been torn in two, and taped to a mismatched half.

Absolutely unhinged trying to figure out how they intersect.

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