Wednesday, December 17, 2008


i am sitting in the olive green chair
the one we always fought over
and my feet are up, visible through the window if
anyone from below cared to look.
door creeks, latch moves, and you shuffle
your eyes, there's something, a look
you are shaking and you sit across from me,
telling me about anna.
how she is playing joan of arc and you don't know what to do.
in this moment you are changing before my eyes.
little did we know this would shape who you become;
she changed your life by talking nonsense.
we make plans, i make plans, i resolve to get you back
what you have lost.
i promise to carry you through,
and my arm around your back becomes the way we always walk.

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