June 26, 2013
When it’s this early in New York all I hear is the window fan.
Dirt on the cage forces relation but I keep cool again.
It’s a new day always.
It just depends.
I’ll cross that bridge later, right on over the edge.
Feel like I had it once
history weighs on my brain all life long
Just like they say…
I was never here
this never happened.
Jasen Ribadenera Bushwick 6-24-13
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