Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Leave, this has little to do with you.

I walked by the place where you are
But you weren't there
There was a note on the fridge
Saying I could find you by the stairs

I walked into the room
The sun hung in the most awkward position in the sky
I fucking hate that

There wasn't much,
Just some clothes
A treasure chest
A blanket
And a body

Come around
Watch old films with me
Describe to me your least favourite sounds.

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