Sunday 4/08/2007 12:26:00 AM

Waiting for the floor to decide. Which footprints it would keep. Watching the glass turn opaque. The failed metaphors of friends looking for lovers. And alcoholics searching for the poet they used to be.

Waking up to die all over again. The arrant marathons of insomniacs. Our blisters all that's left of our pride. As we crawl. The fever just enough to keep us alive.

Turning it over to the scarecrow. The grim smile amongst all those weeds. The condom on my happiness. Drowning in people I'll never know.

It's not like I want to be the burden, but I can see myself loving it. The hierarchy of sex converted to decimal points. Like we were there when the world began. Asking all these thing of us. Like we had some role in the concept of love.

You'll say it's easy being us. And maybe you're right.

You'll say I'm only as happy as I want to be. And maybe you'd be right. Were anyone else.

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