Change rings alarm bells in my pocket as I walk you home.
Alerts me, says, remember, this is how such things are grown.
Can I trust this heart,
this foolish ugly organ,
playing pretty all the wrong notes
to have finally learnt the score?
To have at last exhausted
this desire for disaster?
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"Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?"-Holly Golightly
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