"i want you to say my name again"
2003-05-07 9:48 p.m.

a few unintentionally meaningful sentences can cut off your life support. much like trying to breathe when somebody has stolen, not the air, but your lungs themselves. a clumsy sort of loss and one that you hope goes unnoticed.

and so it rained on the seventh of may. and the rain staircased down the leaves of trees, as it always does while all the smells of my neighborhood shift. the homeless begin wearing more hats and walking out into traffic more often. the construction crews take longer lunch hours. and i sleep hard and slow.

but nothing about the world ever changes. every feeling i have is still a love letter written in blood. but the words are always the same. apparently, i have nothing more to give and have no right to anyway.

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