July 3, 2005

something washed ashore, onto that beach of broken bones
and dreams of something aweful, the soft whispers that follow through your thoughts.
mindless meanings meander in mellow melancholy, a short monopoly of emotions.
Nervous nirvana, systematic reveiw of a rational retraction,
please re-type your response in a practical practiced manner.

lock your arms and open your doors.
your thoughts are all your armor.
resolve and re solve all those problems
and that glitch will be
erased
from
memory.

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