When I drive past the exit to your house and I see something fuzzy and downtrodden I think furiously to myself, ‘me too, little one!’
Posts tagged words.
I don’t know how I do it, but whenever I meet new people whilst drunk I either bring up the national or american imperialism. Last night, it was both.
always fallin’ for unreachables, unattainables, readily unavailables and unstables.
you tell me
that I help you come
to your senses, that you
like it when I stroke
your ego and that you use me
as if I were tissue
but honestly I think you
just like the idea
of a call-girl.
- me: hey dad! aunt so-and-so posted a photo of me on facebook during my one-and-only cute phase. I want to say between two and three maybe.
- dad: I don't remember that.
Written in small caps by airplanes across the mid-afternoon sky, “love is only for the beautiful, or those who find themselves as such.”
You are nothing but a doormat, but he loves you, dummy.
I can sleep to circumvent thinking, but alas…dreams are unavoidable.
Contented moments, in the gray mornings
oatmeal and coffee, cat purrs and warm bodies
thinking of night, how things will be better
but this great, menacing cloud
of fines and penalties,
of neglect and irresponsibility
well it could very well begin
to downpour
imminently.
“you’re my favorite depressed person to hang out with, because I can hardly tell.”
