Let's screw up our circadian rhythms together.
Ravage our bodies with love and desperation.
We'll wreak havoc on ourselves,
Because this brand of destruction only breeds creation.
And it's all for this:
The hours of sleep lost are but one small price to pay for one more minute with you.
The minutes are glue.
Birthing we's and us's
from the me's and you's.
Together, we'll never slumber.














Comments
--
There are no problems, only challenges.
~Press Tilton
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They want trash
They want you batting a lash
They'll eat styes from elephant's eyes
They're in touch with their inner crutch
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So it goes.
"That's what writers do. We cut ourselves open and we bleed all over the page."
--
So it goes.
"That's what writers do. We cut ourselves open and we bleed all over the page."
god ive done that so many times..
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with your feet in the air and your head on the ground... where is my mind?
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So it goes.
"That's what writers do. We cut ourselves open and we bleed all over the page."
--
~And Morgan says, Maybe love wont let you down; all of your failures are training grounds, and just as your backs turned youll be surprised, she says, as your solitude subsides.~
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So it goes.
"That's what writers do. We cut ourselves open and we bleed all over the page."
And you deserve it.
--
~And Morgan says, Maybe love wont let you down; all of your failures are training grounds, and just as your backs turned youll be surprised, she says, as your solitude subsides.~
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