----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- i love you drama match whitefaced constitute institute stomach this so identify * A POEM THE SPAMMERS WROTE FOR ME - REALLY JUST A COMPILATION OF THEIR SUBJECT LINES SECRET MESSAGES FROM ANOTHER WORLD? APPARENTLY 'JON' CAN HAVE SEX ALLLLLL NIGHT. I miss you. I was so entrenched in my self pity and fear at four o' clock barefoot in recycled dirty clothes put on my red hat I was going to find you out - leaving me at midnight returning five hours later - suspicious and sniffing your discarded shirt - cigarettes hide everything. and so does the -ism. Creeping off my forehead divine inspiration with eight legs and a thorax took a bit of my forehead with him and drained all the notions of tomorrow and drained all my ego like steam from a kettle. I'm alright now. Alone - unalone - missing our fields is futile. Loving my futures is futile. Holding you so near that your eyes become one frightening overlord is futile. I will allow you your magpies. I will allow me my sunrise. The moon was never ours together. It was mine alone. And though I need you I don't need you that way. But still I miss you. 7:32 a.m. - 2007-02-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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