pardon, getting my scream on

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October 6, 2013 by Wayne.

Ran out of miles on my revolving heart
Played cowboy chords to call you home
Felt all the years as days
Watched the rain beat against dead windows
Touched your face to say hello
Laughed about the stupid shit we used to listen to
Floated on thoughts I promised to overcome by tomorrow
Read about choices and flight control secrets
Walked into the second atrophying of desire
Kissed salted lips as the ground walked backwards
Rolled a three on the dice of things to come
Talked about religion on park benches
Shared your last words with your parents over dinner
Listened to your breath come up in shallow gasps
Endured the heat of summer and repentance
Watched your face through the dead windows
Felt the airlift dissolving into visitation times
Played the role of broken lover and of cruellest truth
Ran out of days to count and we were only at September.

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