Thursday, April 16, 2015

2.1444 : 4/16/09 : Days

Dropping days like beats and I’m
sick of keeping track
Dropping words like cords of wood
I’m chopping tossing on the stack
Nothing I can eat and if I burn it
it won’t burn for long
meant not to but here again
I’m writing about the song
hell with it what if I just
don’t want to take my life out of the box
something should be left mine
to last when all the bullshit walks
So this gets the iteration
just the endless why why why
I sent it to the fire I swear
but somehow it just would not die

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