Headed Downtown For The Literary Type

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Headed downtown for the literary type
Searching for the scribes of our weary day
To heal my heart with words that matter
I’ve tried, but I don’t see any other way

Falling stars may not mean much to you
But I’m here without any expectation or hope
Where do we find our reasons for love
Even we can kill our dreams, given enough rope

Those Matchbox Fantasies

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Those matchbox fantasies
Gunmetal grey panties with soft pink polka dots
She placed a stiletto on her wooden leg
Character assassination plots go all for naught
Unassuming by way of distraction
She’s hiding a switchblade under that dress
She’s dangerous down to her core
A beautiful woman – you don’t want to mess
Beware of their corrosive accolades
There’s no exoneration in the line of fire
She’s insolent about your theoretical love
In the end, she’s killed you with her underwire

Offering Up A Minimalism

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Offering up a minimalism
Finding cool without effort
Not weak enough to share
Tough; never going to revert
A mental state removed
Not allowing for them to kill
My soul still beating today
The essence won’t be distilled
Try as you forever might
I won’t be boiled down to a word
No single thought or character
All my expressions slowly heard