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We were falling in love or falling apart
choose either one, it'll break your heart
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On the car ride back from mother’s home in
Michigan one summer, we stopped
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keep my heart, my head, my body
I don't ever want them back.
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I was rarely without your company
that summer; twenty dollars at a South Dakota
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Janie tires when she has time to close her eyes and think.
She manipulates the hours so they are rushed,
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In the summer, the retention hole
behind our house grows
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You must fall / away from here. / You must fall / from my arms. / Pull close / to what you know, / then let it go, / let it go. / / (chorus) / I want you to / find your own way. / I want you to / fa
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In the living room, through the floor
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She fades beyond the background, letting her grasp on familiarity weaken until she
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My uncle’s hands have fingers gnarled and rough from sowing seeds into the
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She has forgotten now that we were one and two, that there didn't used to be a string of dozens
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Your womb punctured by an Injection of holy spirit,
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The success of his day is tethered to how well he can
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You have my shadow to shade you
from sunburn
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Though this song is meant for lovers, I will always think of it
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This is the 8th poem in a series I've been writing for awhile now. Check out the last seven to follow the story.
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The street corner children – the ones with stunted growth and
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She’ll swim a mile every day to compensate for when she imagined
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He’ll contrast body parts and pieces of the sky, but
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She was supplied with a middle name
four days after her birth,
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She had nowhere to go.
Her mother had locked her out,
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I know the bird at my window has traveled far.
She saw the field where I played hide and seek
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We lived different days
we held different hands
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You make me breath my secrets
on empty postcards and cinema screens,
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and we both curled up in our different places,
and stayed up all night with our memories.
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but i'm willing to say that nothing has changed
if you'll leave me here on my own
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If I listen to each verse
And try to figure out
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She waited for me once,
then ran ahead to overlook the shore below.
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As a child I didn’t know that
looking out my window could be more
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she's torn between
pages and past-lifes
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he wakes at dawn
with music tucked
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He wrote everything on paper.
He asked the same questions,
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the words come, but never in time.
they don't seem to fill the page
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