Relationships passing in the night
Neither one of us can ever be right
Every kiss a clash, every fuck a fight
A bedroom door between us at night
Invisible fences at morning's light.
***
Her guitar case poised between her knees, hair dangling in her face, her glasses holding it at bay as she flips through a pocket-sized Art of War. She rests her head upon her instrument, her pink skull fingerless mittens clashing perfectly with her turquoise boots, she perks up to see if it's her stop. It isn't but it is mine.
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