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Dec 15, 2007 12:43

Wounds are healing. Scars are forming and blood is clotting, coagulating; cauterizing becomes easier as the metals sit amongst the flames.

Who are we really kidding? Who is anyone ever kidding? Why does the world walk around broken (everyone is broken) trying to fix itself? We're all shattered glass washing up to beaches.

Why, Mr. Monroe, do I continue to waste my thoughts? Why did we fool ourselves into love? You most definitely set me into a quagmire (giggity giggity giggity? lol). I am intelligent, funny, clever and beautiful and yet I have nothing to do with myself. Whether the fault be at your feet or mine or someone we've got nothing to do with is not my judgment to make.

Go on knowing you are never lost, for you are always in my heart. I know that there are many in yours so I will not ask my place. I want to be able to sit with you frankly one day and count stars or traffic lights and drunk with happiness and peace gather the ability to tell you I

will not finish the thought. I have fucking commitments. For someone ought to be so clever I am awfully stupid sometimes, aren't I?
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