| The Epilogue |
[Oct. 11th, 2005|01:27 pm] |
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| something lost |
[Apr. 5th, 2005|07:32 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | discontent | ] | My guitar has two broken strings. I didn't realize until I noticed them this morning, just how long it'd been since I'd even picked the guitar up - months, at least. The paint on it is still glossy, though, chipped a little in some parts, scratches in the surface here and there. It tells me, I was loved. I was loved, but now I'm worn, and neglected, and you try to soothe me with a cheap new string that will never be played. I can't be bought off so easily. After I put the new strings on, I crawled into bed and slept for four more hours. |
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