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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was written in 2001, a snippet of poetry that ended up becoming lyrics to a song a friend was writing at the time.

Submitted: December 19, 2008

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Submitted: December 19, 2008



Darkened shapes where photos once hung stain the sun faded paint of the walls in my room.

Glittering glass still crunches under my boots as I stumble in at 3 A.M.; only to fall in a rumpled, drunken, smoky heap at the foot of your side of the bed.

I lay curled around the shoe you threw at me, like a wounded puppy begging for affection.

I cry like a child, and then rage in turn, surrounded by candles lit and left to burn.

Only to slip into sleep once I am wrapped in the arms of the ghost of the scent of you.

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