Friday, December 18, 2009

Intensely personal.

Tunes in my head: Sentimental Hygiene by Warren Zevon
Books of a page: Lolita by Vladamir Nabakov
Atmosphere: Melancholic.


I miss you.

Not who you've become.

But who you were.

I know there's no chance of that changing.

But I can still write it down.

I can still scrawl down my hopes onto the page.

Why?

There's no turning back the clocks now.

Because someone else sets them.

Even all of the moments in a box are fading away slowly.

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