You shaved your head
What the hell you thinking?
It’s January and cold outside
You forgot your hat and I miss your hair
With a glass of vacant words and loaded silence
* I love you
What of these things you do?
The dinner’s cold
I’ve been waiting seven hours at the table
So where’ve you been?
You don’t have to say, but I wish you could
All this pain with bitter lines of empty anger
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