smoke a newport and fuck youself to sleep.
don't weather the bath until you can smell the blood in your pants.
giggle incessantly and smack those who listen too closely.
sweat, paint your face black, roll on the floor, forgot about those days when we kissed and slept. they never happened.

oh lord, i'm stuck in college again. never enough creedence never enough screaming. my voice fell through the floor last night , i couldnt get it up in front of a bare bulb and four strangers with big eyes. sober and estranged i wanted to sing but whimpered it out instead. i'd prefer jealousy now to sympathy later. tonight ill belt the new shit ( Read more... )

in a laboratory with rocks and one broken shade: i realized it was one of those cold bright autumn days and my head fills with enormous fantasy woven on the brief rush of memory ( Read more... )

i hear your grimey gritty tape and feel that yearning. to scream and shout and see you all move across the floor and afterwards on the flloor there might be puddles of beer. its no longer jealousy or anger just honest admiration. that yearning is a kin to me wanting to have him nearby too, both being things that reassure and assuade doubts. fuck ( Read more... )

you can wake me at at 4:30 am anytime for that. today, and early this morning was good practice for my new (old) life. leather and ironing boards, fresh pressed. cocaine and coach hand bags. i'm a wolf in sheep's clothing, i'll breed corporate terror in a few years. call me a sell out, call me a ho but i'm still going to be indebted and broken in ( Read more... )

say good night, hombre, say hello ,girl. i sat in class while the professor's voice went out while discussing the new years eve revolution, while i tasted skin, with a dreamy sex cloud above my head.
but i digress. johnny's coming over with some cocaine and i can feel my skin crawling already and the drips. and if there was a time, it would be

i qucikly type as to avoid suspicions.

i love the backwoods and the nickel sacks, even if there are seeds and stems in the leaf... I must being rolling with the punches. I must restrict my intake of magic muggles and dutchie 'dro and clear my head..... hydroponic only means grown in wet(ter) soil, after all. geograpy ain't so bad, after all. will i die for my bike and red traffic ( Read more... )

my eyes are dry from cocaine and holding back a few tears, too. but her eyes are completely swollen, purple. she went back west today after her homecoming: a attack of sadness left her with no sleep and mosquitos, while stupid houseguests milled about. i had delicious lengthy sex on our couch while she tried to pass out. i say: pierced cock feels ( Read more... )

a woman's screams a moans are echoing around our house, from the lot next year. we think she is a prostitute. i want to play guitar but i feel funny with the screaming in my ear. i wonder what the guard dog is doing while this is going on.