July 21st, Year of the Moon

I need you, I don’t need you. Leonard Cohen as everyman. Lived through, but not over. Not yet. A half-developed story, with the potential to change the world after breakfast. Unrequited love receiving insincere applause.

Downtown has it all, but there is no room for me there. So, I go in costume. I listen to the light cough, coming from a woman I will never see again. There, the gaze of an inquisitive child. There, a dog’s whimper, craving an affection once given in excess. I catch a song coming from an electronics store. A song I once loved, but repeated listening has turned it into more noise than melody.

Lie, and it will be what you receive. Blame, and you will be blamed.
Was I truly careless, or was I deceitful? Was I just, or was I vindictive?

The sophomoric poetry. Little kisses from wine-stained lips. Sticky, shaking hands. Restless legs, stepping over mine. Ignoring midnight on a workday. Sometimes, it’s worth the fight.

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July 21st, Year of the Moon

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