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Laying on the dark red-brown
Indoor dirt, a resting place
We lay while looking up
As if our eyes
Pierced throug
The ceiling to the skies
The stars were our own
We held them in our hands
Never letting go

bookmarks:
listography GIVE MEMORIES
TERMS
FAVORITE LISTOGRAPHY MENTIONS
IMPORTANT NOTICES
MESSAGES
  • the amount of people I am missing
  • the progress of Sweater Vest Protest
  • getting the word out for " The Turtle Neck Revolution"
  • being Famous
  • defeating Writers Block
  • the length of my hair
  • my health
  • the rate at which i obtain u.s. currency
  • the amount of time i have to feel free
  • time spent with nature
  • time spent for myself
  • time spent working on collages and gluing things to other things
may 13 2009 ∞
may 14 2009 +