Wednesday, September 8, 2010

slow-motion fast-pitch

watching the window fall
watching the glass break
hearing the baby's cry
counting up my mistakes
it's a minute to 4 am
and i can't be buried
my pride is to heavy now
my heart is to hard to carry

I used to see you driving home
from his house
carrying that guilt behind your
drivers seat
i used to notice, when you weren't around
but that time
is so far behind me

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