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Post by shamefulsean on Feb 16, 2006 9:03:34 GMT -5
your reasonning... for seeing me. sheds like the ashes of a fire burning the pits of apples, messily wrapped in corduroy by a schoolyard bully named billy.
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Post by shamefulsean on Feb 16, 2006 9:04:14 GMT -5
your eyes... calmly darting searching rooms of old paintings that artists never drew, shedding paint. like cement on a forest floor... crafty art supplies.
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Post by shamefulsean on Feb 16, 2006 9:04:41 GMT -5
and your soul... lost long ago. to the thought of another remedy, herbal falicies and trickeries set by the gingerbread maid, honouring the memory of a falling screaming idol.
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Post by shamefulsean on Feb 16, 2006 9:05:14 GMT -5
this ride is so uncomfortable, what time do you have to be back in heaven?
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Post by shamefulsean on Jan 26, 2010 21:46:18 GMT -5
a yearning to be back soft, feeling. focal points of fingertips spiraling out into blue, blue... .no longer walking smoothly in a dance, more like lumbersome blind people treading across a worn out keyboard. so far from the reflective layers of self. will one day come back to it, being me. being more myself
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