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Boxes of Cats
10:59 p.m. 2004-09-01

Across your song of retribution scream typecast simultaneous resolutions to abandon you at the last second and worst possible time. Kill your idols like they told you to do and stop playing the game for someone else. If you wake up and find me standing there with pink hair and looking like nothing more than a little punk, fuck you because its for me and i'd love to stand there and laugh at myself while you laughed at the indignity of it all.

Sweet serenity screams so loud that silence was shaken.... fuck you and your sensibilities, your rules and contradictory neglect of a moral fabric tied together at your fingertips. Taste your stutterstep delinquincy like roses on the front porch after an early morning rain. In perfection we are crippling and crippled by our own inevitablity and perceptions of sincere beauty are so far and between i want to contradict you and everything you ever stood for just for the sake of saying later that you were right and seeing the look in your eyes. Its all about pride.

Past these skylines acidic twists of clouds could burn through atmospheric celestial bodies and leave a gaping slash in the soul of our world and you. Past gray green eyes and tired attempts at insinuating lust there is a clear blue sky exploding into a crimson sunset. Somewhere beyond the people we are and the people we fear to become there is something smiling at us in shades of pink and gold. And like a morning mist i'll wait for you, in hope and love and eternity i could hover over this ground if you just once understood that i exist in the in between moments. A glimpse and a sigh and its all over now...

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words @ jake, layout @ kelly