We draw ever nearer to our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of immeasurable emptiness.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
break that birdie
oh dear. so embarassing.
*dies of shame*
but the drops, the drops. drops on faux leather, drops on varnished wood.
and then she left.
Whispered goodbye and she got on a plane Never to return again But always in my heart
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