Friday, December 16, 2011

mean

you've become too mature
to save me anymore
you won't interrupt, object

as my mouth runs on and out
of words, on fumes of what I mean
you let

me keep going, until I'm out
and pushing the car from behind,
but I won't give up

I know what I mean, is somewhere
up ahead

it was faster
when you'd interrupt, somewhere up

the line

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