The story is getting old,its now been scripted to hide the knots in my stomach
pretending this isnt’ a car crash of words
ambushed by the old acquaintance armada trying to get coffee
pinned down at the jukebox while trying to get a drink
as far as the cap can go over my eyes
im always spotted
last i heard you were…
when do you come back?
oh..i hope it wasnt…
as if it mattered where i was or what had transpired
i am alive and sort of well
which cannot be said for alot of people who we knew
so please spare me the inquisition
and i will spare the details
accept this facsimile smile
then i will go about my business


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