I thought about the wicker bar
Heavy rain i pine for
Used to set my birthday as my PIN
Red string, cork board, tacks: it's the place i'm in
I thought about the school's rules of which i had no clue:
To cross my legs when i sat down
And move across the hallway when september comes around
It came around: "can i please come around?"
And i thought about that painting
Primary colours splashed over corrugated card
It looked quite hard
And i thought about my bust mitral valve
It pumps forty-two million times, year round
And i suppose i broke my heart in a literal sense
Back row kings, benched
And i wondered if i still had the chance to spout my defiance to the skies
Dukakis tanked; lost track and tread
I was broke but i'm on the mend
The shape i'll leave when i'm gone will not stand without me
That empty shell will collapse on itself
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