I guess I should take down our pictures together,
I guess I should forget about you.
I guess I should move on,
But why is it so hard to do?
They won't love me like you did,
Other guys don't get that sparkle in their eye.
We were a short time, love,
Fast and furious,
Meant to burn out,
like those shooting stars we used to wait for.
I guess I should stop romanticizing our memories together,
Start remembering your flaws.
We weren't meant to be,
And I have found a man now.
So I guess this is my goodbye,
I'll see you in the next life.

altho
                  ugh i push y
                                         ou away, yo
                                                u have alw
                                                             ­        ays see
                                                             ­                       med to kno
                                                             ­                                               w that
the truth of the m
                              atter is, i will alwa
                                                            ­    ys need you more
                and yet
                                                        poets are flagra
                            nt wastes of space
hem      
                   ming the edge
                                                  s of this society
                                                                                                               confining it
                                     with hed
          onistic needs and wants
                        and all t
                                      he ridiculous feeli
                                                           ­                               ngs assoc
                                                           ­              iated with the fu
                                                              ­                                                          cked system of
                  emot
   ional intelligence
                                            emascu
                                                           lating the blac
                                                                                          k and wh
                                                              ­                        ite i des
                        ire of



Alas, Alas
I seem to have drowned myself into Kool-Aid.
"Poets are shameless with their experiences; they exploit them" said Nietzsche once.
I wonder how you are today.

.
                                  What
                        ­    did the ****
                        say to the ******?
                       Don't make me ***
                          in there . What's
                          the difference be
                          tween your wife
                          and a bonus?Yo
                          ur wife  will alw
                          ays blow your b
                          onus. What do y
                          ou call a woman
                          who likes  small
                          *****? Hopefully
                          your   girlfriend.
                          The other day m
                          y girlfriend caug
                 ht  me blow drying my ****.
               She  asked  what I  was  doing.
                Apparent ly      w arming   u p
                  her   dinner    was  not   the
                        right                  answer.