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Tired Love by Talile Ali
i keep trying
you keep sighing
i keep vying
you keep crying
i keep twistinging
you keep fisting
what a mess we are
in the back of your car
getting into my head
never into my bed
once it's played
it's laid
to be so bad
by wanting something
thats so surreal it sad
instead of that
which feels
tired love resides on the heels
of shattered, smelly, swelling thrills
Copyright © 2009
poem
by
Talile Ali
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