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The Young Arsonist

Ex girls floating in jars of formaldehyde

Their once magic eyes no longer seem alive

It's time I set all my half-written songs on fire

and feed my dreadful poems to the flames

Why am I keeping all these memories on ice?

Do I really believe their pulses might return?

It's time to torch the piles of extinct fantasies

To detonate and wheel and run while they burnA knife to drive into the hearts of prior I's

It's for the better

Bid them so long

The moments they lived,

right or wrong, are gone forever

I'll be something new without themStaring sculptures of my former favorite friends

Their once laughing voices faint and distant now

I'm weary with the weight of my previous life

I want to push it from a plane and watch it crash downLaid out side by side those phases with their eyes closed

Laid out in a line my dying boys all wave goodbye

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