Tag Archives: barfly

Bukowski

I called him “Bukowski”, because he wrote with the same disdain as the poet, and succumbed to all the same vices. He loved to drink, He loved to smoke, and he loved women, one in particular, me. He wrote often. … Continue reading

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Bittersweet Symphony

Last night, I was the girl in glasses, alone at a bar, with a book, which basically made me, a sitting duck. I knew this, but I had gone to hear my friend play his guitar, and I was going … Continue reading

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Fast Love

I should probably put the pen down, because I might make a mess, but there’s a few things here, I want to confess. I just dyed my hair, because I thought I saw a random grey, I bought new jeans … Continue reading

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Shake It Off

I’d like to pay homage, to the following men, those I wish, to never see again. The one who flirted with the waitress, the one who may have been racist, the one in love with his ex, the one who … Continue reading

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Six Degrees of Separation

I can’t write about you, simply because, as anonymous as this blog is, even anonymity has its limits. Our ‘six degrees of separation’, are more like ‘two’, and ‘one’ of those degrees, follows this blog. The ironic part is, I … Continue reading

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Darkness Visible

I used to watch you sleep, and wonder what you were dreaming. I would always start writing, unable to put the pen down, afraid if I stopped, i’d explode. You used to watch me sleep, and wonder what I was … Continue reading

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Blinded by Bukowski

Blinded by Bukowski, temporarily, instead of pen, i’ll write in pencil, to ensure my words are me.

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