Tuesday, November 25, 2008

and now my sockets sit like empty catchers' mitts waiting

my skin is itching
if i could slip it off
only for a while
i think i would feel better.
and at the end of the day,
i just want some things of my own.
open arms and a place to lay my head.
i want something familiar that doesn't grow old.
refresh refresh refresh.
broken fingernails, bruises, an empty bed and ghost vibrations.
after so many fucking failures,
i just want to see the sun rise.

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