Tag Archives: sex
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
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
And it’s Friday night, And i’m driving around, And “that song” came on, And suddenly it’s 2004 again, And he was going to be a rock star, And he played bass until his fingers bled, And his band became family, … Continue reading
It’s my fault we ran into each other last month, I Jedi mind tricked you. you’d probably like to know that, being the most narcissistic person i’ve ever met. We shook hands, you smiled, that stupid adorable smile. I hate … Continue reading
I am unable to write, not a good sign, especially at this, particular moment in time. I’ve been scribbling down rhymes, hating each one more than the next, considered going Carrie Bradshaw on your asses, and start blogging about sex… … Continue reading
Blinded by Bukowski, temporarily, instead of pen, i’ll write in pencil, to ensure my words are me.