I find the little pieces of you in everyone. I met a girl yesterday, her name starts with an L, like yours, and the girl I sat next to in Starbucks was reading your favourite book and the little kid I saw in the park today kinda laughs like you.

2. I heard drowning was a peaceful way to die but thoughts of you have been twisting around my arms and pulling me under and holy **** I can't breathe. Water is burning at my throat, and my eyes feel like they're being incinerated. Everything hurts. I'm falling deeper, I'm at my breaking point. My lover finds me thrashing around in bed screaming your name. Drowning is messy.

3. I asked you for a lighter to light my cigarette with since I misplaced mine. But instead you said a collection of words that set me on fire, and you watched me burn to the ground. You could've put me out. Why didn't you just ******* put me out?

4. I guess I didn't know what I was expecting. I know life is far from what the movies you love watching come to be, I know that I won't get the girl because I'm the guy whose loved her when she stopped altogether. I know that I won't get the chance to kiss you in the rain either, but I just didn't think I would get to watch you slip through my fingers and mistake you for someone to fall asleep to when I was lonely.

5. You were never into writing or anything, your favourite hobby was breaking my heart.

Hey God, scoot over a bit. I'm feeling kinda tired. Would you fluff that cloud for me?  Ah, thanks dude, much better. My head's been feeling heavy. The closer I get to the end of the road, well...makes me wonder why bother with the rest of the show. The endings are all the same.

To be honest, it hasn't been quite all it was hyped.  We start running low on that joy thing and all of a sudden it just seems so ...pointless.  I find myself wondering if my dog is going to outlive me. ****'s that about?  I've had a dozen or so dogs and this is the first I've ever worried about whether one would be sad if I checked out tomorrow. Another sad lonely old dog ain't going to be the end if the world.

Even poetry's not doing much for me. Face it, mine's fallen flat, and with the exception of a handful of golden pens on HP, it's kind of gone to hell. Oh, I don't blame eliot. That's what happens when us old ***** play around with technology that the youngins know more about. Algorithm doesn't know **** about poetry, and all I know about hash is how to smoke it. Think I'll just stay up here and rest a spell. This fluffy cloud is feeling mighty fine.

r ~ 5/23/14

he dresses plainly and drives a car beaten up by a lovely in-his-prime salesman.  he draws disability to repair the memory he has of enlarging the vacation photos you delete.  he gets paid to be no one.  there are days that are not the day his check is short.

There once was a man named Lymerick,

And sadly he was very sick,

But he wanted a kiss,

Though his love was amiss,

so he stuck with kissing the broomstick!

we’re at that point in the conversation where someone is called someone to protect someone’s identity.  we’re in a sparsely populated room where last time I checked you were having a party attended by people who believe people **** people.  I am currently the sobriety story you beat into your kids until the neighbors take them away to a toy train that circles someone’s sister who is convulsing on the carpet to free her braces.  your dee-jay brother is being a **** to everyone but me.  his song makes me sad the rest of my days which are also the rest of my snow days.