(the) poem for the lost

words on a page. i think you're so easy to forget (how you haunt me) even now, laying cistern colo0rs for the life of me and wasting wanting dripping seat that smell s like you lost in the desert (where you beong) where you always were for me there wallowing on the floor too much to stay away. i know you're gone, now.

i only thought this would help. anna, you knew me before the sunlihgt hit me and i'll know you as the moonlihgt comes to close.

i only wanted you.

2003-02-21 | 2:05 p.m.
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