Sarsaparilla

I caught a glance from your eyes
in the dark, and you were pretty
like the evening. "How do you do?" I
said. I draped you about me as a warm jacket
pulling the sleeves over my wrists for warmth
A House Not Made With Hands.
A House Not Made With Hands.
A House Not Made With Hands.
A House Not Made With Hands.
our hair danced about in the breeze
(it was two weeks before autumn set in, and
still I'd not felt a care in the world)
I can't sleep no more. There is a fucking
ghost sitting next to me.
but then my jacket became tattered and
torn, as if all love had been vanquished from
it's soul. no longer was I worthy to wear
you. no one attended to my delicate, trembling hands
maybe someday someone will hold me close,
and whisper in my ear "these are the
things in life worth loving."
but tonight, i am Loss, i am complete rejection.



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