a few second hands on the clock and a change in pronunciation, we might be standing in different places, looking through brighter irises, but you and me and these shadows are exactly right here, past and future tenses of the same dull thud that we felt on the backs of our hands, reminiscent of the day we bet it all on that faithful four, like the gutters of that fateful court, we'll run right through, we'll run right through until the night's got nothing left for us.
Books
Heroes
nobody but myself. i don't trust you, you, or you. yet, if you have endured tragedy and the darker side of humanity, and you have managed to hold your morals and beliefs close to your ragged heart despite what the blank faces around you have continuously repeated; then i undoubtedly respect you.
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Dec 28 2009 7:38 AM