Do NOT read

This loathsome work of fiction is a dream of sorts...

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

Paper Hose

Sucking fire through a magic paper hose,
The more I stand here, the more and more it grows,
Until no longer, making sense there,
Staring at that empty fence, for hours, Thinking that's what, we were made for,
Fighting through the nights we are apart,
Then we come back, thinking something big,
Hoping that we can make it through the weeks, 
Because I need you, wanna really feel you. 


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