11:37 a.m.

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New things are happening
Different things to come

It bothers me but I can't wait to meet where they used to be from

She loves the smell of your attention  but hates the deal of my reactions.

The deadroses in my grandpa's yard still grow within the tough dirt

I take pictures and admire how much they've all been hurt
Just like the feeling of my mother as she walked in the heels she wore all day

I refused as long as I could and never gave a chance to see what they took

Until I finally attempted to make a look and saw how you made me feel some type of way

I tried so hard to not listen to everything you tried to say

Because The past creeps in like a mirror on a wall

But I don't wanna move fast as my heart keeps on bouncing the ball

And the flame in my head keeps on growing more and more that it's fed

And it angers me that the thought of my life that was decent is soon to move away and hide in a shed

Yesterday I wore whatever I grabbed from the pile of mismatched socks

Although today now these new ones bring me down as I ran quickly on top of all the sharp rocks

But then again I'm a little different now and so are you

So stop living in the past and bringing up whatever happened in early June

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