August 7, 2010
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Pink pompoms and crescent moons
Synthetic comfort of only the highest quality
Outlines imprint past soul-searches
anesthetized youth

The W channel provides the background
On these sheltered afternoons
Longing mentally to travel back
Wishing physically to grow forward
Where’s that nail file

My favourite, you
I love this, this silence
It’s the epitome of fun
Sincerely, without a doubt I could care less
Pillow crushed against my chest
As if I could cover the rip in my chest
my heart will make when it bursts

Stupidity, irrationality, pure immaturity
You sir, are a sham
Waves of emotions reach their high peaks
White caps of confusion
Waste of being, waste of oxygen
This last time

Tri-tone vibration
slip n' slide hardwood hallways
champion racehorse reincarnation?
my life line, my iv drip, handheld computer
oh hey, pretty good how about you?
Ear-to-ear beam, as if my cheeks could rip apart
adorable waste of oxygen
cutest waste of being
and still under 20 minutes

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