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Going Home

God you taste like Jim Beam, you smell like my father, we only have one thing in common, whiskey sours. Space time continuum, listening to The Replacements, getting high on a merry go round. I guess I’m trying to tell you I’ve had it and I’m taking the next plane out of town, just like I always do. Today is the day, when you all realize I’m a coward and a restless soul. I’m taking these sample bottles of life with me on my trip. I use people in small doses anyway, and if I don’t make it, you can bet I’ll be coming back around. Never did last long without that southern country sound. I’ve been waiting too long now, and all my friends are down and out. I’m calling your bluff we won’t make it another six months. So I’m cutting this rip cord, I’ll let you dangle and I’ll start again. In a place that’s not the same but still they remember my name and my search for the last great adventure. Do you remember me? I’ve been running this underground in dreams that won’t stop. I’ll make it somewhere, some way and I wont have to blame  you any more, when things don’t work out for me. I’m taking this serious, I’m looking for my next stop in a world that seems hell bent on breaking this girl down. Well fuck you, I’ll pull myself off this faded tile ground, I’ll break the mold and risk the most, I’ll lose myself just like I used to, in the streets of St. Marks.

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About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

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