and yet another.

and yet another night gone. one after another they are filled with disappointment, the friend of silence. will the time ever be right? i had last night, and i ruined it with impatience. Why did i ever get off that bus? too angry, too flustered to think. Clarity of thought isn't a strength of mine at this moment, and it can't be, not when it's swirling all the time with memories of you.

.

and i wrote something else.

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deeply yours