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Your Forehead Said

This is my Monday night fever
The I-won't-drink-you-up anymore,
kind of thing

Sketch me on a notepad, write me on your refrigerator
Bleach me deep, because I'm asleep

I'm asleep to you.

My December Disaster
Where did you hide?
I turn off the light and see your hands
But it's Monday morning
And I'm alone

Alone, asleep, bleached and drunk...

Because everyone needs a way out- and you're forehead said exit

Your forehead said, "exit".

Author notes

you guessed it, a bad- used relationship. i suppose this won't make much sense to the close minded. Maybe not to anyone at all.  

i turn off the lights and see your hands- don't take this literally. please.
Written April 16th, 2005

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Comments

  • marrow
    April 17, 2005
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    This radiates quite the isolated feeling. Your words really held a weighted sadness that while being only officially appreciated by you was still able to be understood by us. Great piece.

    Justin