Blank Edges of Paper, Finally Filled In.

February 4, 2011
You're gone now.

There's not much I can do.

But sit around, and claim to not be writing about you.

Some things are better left unsaid,

But you narrated it all.

You sat back,

While I took the fall.

We're always gonn'a be the same.

Me and you,

You and me,


Ever changing, never changing.

It makes as much sense as,

Me saying I couldn't care less,

And you saying..

I couldn't care more.

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