That's it.
You're welcome.
I hope this provides some sort of entertainment...
While I'll sit on the toilet.
I am **** shy.
Writing a poem.
Not *******.
Because I make the ******* rules of my life.


It's hard to remember that.
Because I pretned I do.

But I dont.

And today, I am okay with that.
Again, you're welcome.

I am wasted.
This will not rhyme.
Which is not surprising for this blog.

I enjoy this freedom, **** me hard.

Sorry I swear so much.


Just kidding.. **** your feelings.
My poems are nonexistant, and they can sick my swearing, nonexistant di*k
                                           ^ C

And I have a chihuahua who loves me more than anyone could.

Like I said, I am wasted.
Everyone is welcome. ;)

The music is loud and and so is my headspace
In a room full of people I feel locked in solitary

Life is not a card game

And **** is missing from my deck

Laying in a bed full of great *** and bad memories,
I..
I wait to come down from the high of these drugs & poor decisions.
      But my head is so full of the ***, the bad memories, and what brought me to the point of wanting to come down.
    
             As I sit and debate on whether it's all worth it, I'll leave this bed..

Just to smoke my camels, and let ******* **** my brain, in a different place.

Sometimes..
I wish I could leave the memories of it all in the bed that I shouldn't even be sleeping in...
... but something about the fuckedupness tends to tuck-
         Pull
Me back in at night.