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Can't escape the rhythm...
The tick-tick-tock of the atom-bomb alarm clock
buzzing in my head reminds me of January neon lights;
those fly-baiting guardian angels hanging like a dead man,
over the entrance of the coffee shop where you and I were ostricised.
"Say, do you remember when..." Well, let's not start that again,
besides, why think about the things we tried to forget?
Such as cum soaked sheets beneath our wine soaked bodies,
pulsating, pulsating, pulsating... without rhythm.
Smoke a cigarette.
Let's try this again.
So now, two years older, ten cents richer and you a little bolder
and me, well, I've been waiting around and around since the start.
So I'm here with a handful of flowers, (White roses instead of red ones)
and a smile, and you greet me with a handful of boxes and guilt.
"Deja-vu, holy shit! Man, haven't I seen this movie?
Doesn't everybody die at the end?"
Still, I'm gonna pay to see it, (hell I'm the star, aint I?)
I've gotta s
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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