Tuesday, July 12, 2011

imperfection.

You aren’t perfect
And even as I write,
I wish that I would stop.
I can’t go on and on and
Think of how you are just so...
Wrong.

And so I’ll stop for now.
Tuck away my thoughts
Of guiding this sinking ship
Down to the depths of my
Personal graveyard
Because I’m afraid of what it means.

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