Friday, July 6, 2012


Manners don't matter
after the dust coats your hair
Because why should they, anyway
I only notice because
manners don't matter when
your bones grow longer
And the world sees you,

A vulnerable

But not the pitiful kind
But the kind who is pathetic
Because there is no dust in your hair

And they trail the fragments across the tile
You were going to sweep there, anyway
Because manners don't matter when
you're just going into the world
And they're on their way out.

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