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Word spread that you were crazy.
Married, divorced.
Stationed in Texas and a shotgun in your lap.
She left you, was spitting teeth,
but you're a gentleman (at least that hasn't changed) and
you flew here, back here! Into that crumbling apartment
overlooking the old D.
That last letter you sent me
written while you were reading "Choke",
("Feeling sick. Careless. Biding my time with Vicodin.")
that should've set me off...
How utterly angry you are!
That all your childhood followers have strayed,
each with a blooming thought or two.
No girlfriend, habit, book trend,
nothing contributed to you...
"We're bitter people, you and I."
No better for it. But at my simplest,
I am waiting
to hear my name, (four winding flights up)
to come downstairs and find you
horns low and tail tucked neat between your legs
to tell you, "Just go back."

8 Mar 10

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I don't know exactly what to say to this... It doesn't male sense so I'm assuming it has a context...? It's pretty good, though, considering I don't know what it's about.
 — radiogirl