me likey.

Here's some stuff I wrote yesterday and today. Each is an independent entity.
I like them. They just came to me...god, that's so cliche.

(Disclaimer: this in no way reflects my life, chillax.)

but why should I write
of castles and kings when I
could write about you?



I could write of what I hear
of four in the morning
of hotel sheets and collapsed veins
of bruised arms
of glass ashtrays in pieces.



you left my sheets twisted and crumpled
and smoked salvia in my bathroom.
we both thought you God
but you fell so heavy
while I rose in drifting curls.


The last one's my favorite. It's actually structured. I don't have a damn clue how it happened.