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There’s no better way to say thank you than to tell someone they owe you something.

Because I had never had Toblerone, some things just get past you.

 

Sitting at a friend’s place in our early twenties, recalling the old times,

I never thought to tell you how I felt because I was so sure I knew what you’d say.

 

The birds still sounded happy and I muttered for them to fuck off

since the smoke in my lungs didn’t make me feel better.

 

Half wishing I had a visible scar

I was realising our minds forever work in reverse.

 

I am sure that life is always time spent wrong

and I’ve been right before

but not as often as I’ve been scared

 

on a beach path, riding my bike.

A little girl totters across and my brakes fail,

I had never desired so much to be somewhere else

 

Lying in bed after watching a great film,

listening to good music,

my frustrating youth allows me only to think of a girl.

 

Sipping my coffee in the morning and thinking it’s mediocre

before a bullet blasts through my office window

and into my chest, and there is a sinking feeling

but also a sense that my inner struggles are draining away.

 

I have questions about myself that no one else can answer

so most of the time I end up asking;

does my skin feel the same on theirs as theirs does on mine?

 

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