She grew up down the street in poverty
Maybe worse than me
I see her looking for an escape
But it can't be in me
We spoke the same language at one time
Now we don't speak at all so much
I am responsible for who we are now
I guess we are still friendly
If not then we will be o.k.
Silence is better than bitterness
Distance is better than arguing
Our space is necessary to stay whole
Cold
That is how the world becomes
Especially when there is confusion
And a difference of opinion
A difference in how we see us
I grew up in a close nit hood
But not close enough to save us
Or as she says save me
She is saved and full of the holy ghost
So I guess I'm just demonic
Anyway you look at it
We still down the street
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