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push-pinned my picture to your wall, |
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framed it in pieces of argyle. |
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there's a thread for every minute I missed my chance to begin it. |
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I could feel the pressure building up as I cram it to the top, |
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a coffee can filled with letters. |
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my ears begin to pop as the tension drops. |
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we've fallen down, someday you won't be around for me to fall back on. |
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it's so akward to say goodbye to you, |
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the tensest moment when I fail to follow through, |
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I'm all wound up and then you tighten the screws, |
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my want turns to need as you slip on the noose. |
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As I push my pen across the page casting my spell like a first level mage, |
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my epic battle between love and rage |
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a melodramatic mess not fit for my age we've fallen down, |
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all my innocence has drowned since you've gone she says I'm changing everyday, |
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she wants to know how, why, and who with. |
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she says there's still good left in me like I'm the dark lord of the sith. |
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I write this every single winter, |
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and now I'm writing it again: I shed my common sense in exchange for newer skin. |
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the good news is that I've finally learned to appreciate my friends, |
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the bad news is that I havent got any left, |
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the good news is that I dream about it almost every night, |
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the bad news is that when I wake up you're not there. |