Friday, July 12, 2013


A poem past one a.m. can only mean one thing:
That I am prioritizing a thought --
just one.
It is like counting sheep,
without the herd;
like a skip on a record,
on the very first note;
like a series of binary code --
without any zeros,
just one, one, one...
You know why,
because you've been there before
and the reasons don't matter;
they're all scattered anyway.
Just a thought - just the one,
and I'm done for.

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