and that is likely what saved me. . .
the schedule. . .
when things started happening
that weren't normal, I could always
depend on "the schedule". . . but
last night, when the ceiling began to shake,
I knew the past would find me
no matter where or when I left it.
I'm sorry, but that one word,
that bullet I shot
to the heart of the matter,
will never be retrieved.
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