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Tuesday, July 1, 2008


First poem in forever
The pull of gravity is no longer enough for me.
A vortex of anxiety and half-shot nerves, trapped behind a sea of impossible dreams, he called himself Summer, and sucked the deceit and poetry right outta me.
So now all I have left to feel these pages is honesty.
The apathy of buoyancy is no longer soothing to me.
It's just another bored audience member,
Being lulled to sleep by my impossible dreams.
I'm tired of floating, tired of falling.
It's always either too much or not enough.
Can't I just be satisfied for once?

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