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"A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures." The Picture of Dorian Gray

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

day thirty-one: i mean it.

i mean
the words
that slip
from my
lips.

even those
mumbled
so low
that you cannot hear
but you know
something is
being said
that you
should hear.

i mean it
when i say
that i'm really
okay
and i'll not say
what i don't mean
to say
on purpose
on accident
to say
so to speak
out loud
in my head
i really
cannot quiet
these voices
i almost love
them now.
can you
hear them?
they miss you too.

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