| I used to keep things
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| Late evenings endless and repeat until depleted
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| Still don’t know your name
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| We drink from hand-me-down kitchenware
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| One sided arguments
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| I’m waking up with new cuts
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| Another unfulfilling weekend
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| Casual cries for help and undertones of distress
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| Hold out your glass, I’ll pour until you say when
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| The unforgiving cycle home
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| I navigate familiar roads
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| Christmas lights to left and right
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| Set on timers to go off at night
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| Steering into parked cars, setting off alarms
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| Witnesses on porches with extended arms aiming towards me
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| I’m sorry
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| I no longer keep things
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| Late evenings reckless, repress until deleted
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| What is to be gained?
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| We toast with hand-me-down kitchenware
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| A lack of self-control
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| No ounce of moderation
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| It’s past the point to where it’s just sad
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| Shall we destroy ourselves with nothing less than top shelf? |
| Hold out your
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| glass, I’ll pour until you say when
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| I re-read the transcript we exchanged for twenty minutes
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| I re-read the transcript prior to deleting it |