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    Яαgιи Яαvєи
    Cairo, Egypt
    Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you'll notice you've got their strict attention.
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Tapping at my chamber door

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That Special Thing

An endless stream of thoughts I write
About my fever of the night
I've often feared so many childish things
Ghosts and spiders and things that could have been
My hands keep shrinking, and reaching out
For an era of desire when tongues were drought
I drown in a time frame made of sand
While she moves around with her ringless hand
Playing her games, her 'out of reach'
A lesson I've learned that now I can teach
To empty handed fools like my self
Who once thought they were above all else
Stomp all over. I don't care
She's that special thing that I used to wear
In… Put me back in
Don't you dare touch my braided strings
It reasons how I've dealt with matters that long
When all my logic's served me wrong
Spoon-fed particles of dust of shame
I figured maybe, just maybe it'd fade
But then at a pier of nonsense she rose
Passed through me as I watched her go
Away in negligence of the thing she's left behind
Her fucking candy, lollypop; her magic ride
They all grow up and leave me here
In my own special third hemisphere
I cross the border. I cross the guards
They chased me on and through the yards
And gates of
Cairo. Down on my knees
I beg for rest. I pray for a dreamless sleep
Where ration can play the part it should
Where logic fails when all else could
I should have went that extra mile
I could have made it worth her while
But I didn't… I thought the strings may fade
Oh they didn't and now I'm too afraid

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