Smeared black ink, your palms are sweaty and I'm barely listening to last demands. I'm staring at the asphalt wondering what's buried underneath where I am. I'll wear my badge. A vinyl sticker with big block letters adherent to my chest that tells your new friends: I am a visitor here I am not permanent. And the only thing keeping me dry is where I am. You seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex. A stranger with your door key explaining that i'm just visiting and i am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving.
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't speak often, please post a comment with a memory of you and me. It can be anything you want, either good or bad.
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
mrs_lazzara's journal
blah