Wednesday, July 08, 2009
sometimes
Every now and then you'll pop into my thoughts, like a pimple on prom night,
unexpected
but it just fucking figures, right?
Sometimes our memories will flow like the alcohol used to,
down my throat and into the pit of my stomach,
where they'll sit heavily and threaten to make me either blissfully euphoric
or completely sick.
It's hard to tell the difference sometimes.
Some things never change I guess, even when they do.
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