Can't present something worthwhile online, let alone face to face,

Fuck it up always, lack in every dimension any social grace,

Every picture births million possibilities, one wrong word and they all burst,

Pathetic but it's all that I have, push you away with all that I'm cursed,

I cling on when nothing exists to cling, damn thoughts of the future,

Each one severs a bit of who I am, slashes I'm unable to suture,

Too much potential each polaroid possesses, too much I consume,

Worth too many words, from a date tomorrow - to destined bride and groom.

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