Sunday, January 7, 2007

:: o mediator of hope and catastrophe

It could consitute as a bad day, being that the windows weren't clear enough for me to see through to you. It's almost as if the structured verse of my thoughts has taken away my direct path to you. Would you venture to say that it's more of a detriment to me?

A damage or loss of breath could cause me a year without you. A shortness in the life of a thought could cause me 5 to 10. Averages never cut it for me. Let's take it from the top and call it quits if the game ends in their favor. You'd obviously never risk the scratch, so must we spin in circles when I only want to get to the point?

A familiar circumstance or perhaps a witty gesture could reel you in for a chance at something great. How often are you drawn to those you've never met? Hands down, you can never quite keep up with me. I've poured enough love through my glances to last a lifetime. Do you think they ever felt it? Who are we kidding? The odds are always in their favor.

Hold your breath on this one because I'm guaranteeing you an ending of Airports and Coldplay. Clean the fog, would you dear? It's hard to begin when I can't see you.

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