My suspicious intuition
Has almost got me wishing
I was serving what was given
A broken pattern love
How torn and tattered I was
when the liqour hit my blood
and the smoke kept me from truth
your anger kept me from you
a night and broken handle later
I'm learning not to blame her
My suspicious intuition
Has almost got me wishing
she'd be with me.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
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