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poem: perforate along these lines
i draw dashes along my wrists you...
i write myself to you on a piece of paper and you...
i choked back my pride i hoped you did.
i told you a secret and you said...
no, you didn't promise.
but ultimately, and you are not who I thought you were. March 2, 2003, 11.37 p.m.
before sunrise // before sunset
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