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Ford Prefect Mar 2015
how many threats does it take to equal a follow-through?

ten shattered plates and
a burnt piece of toast later
and she still can't
do it-
she still can't
make her words
be anything more than hot air.

she'll stay awake every night for the
rest of her life
imagining
a world where
everything goes her way.

she'll never realize she's the problem
                                               solution
                                               point of origin.
Ford Prefect Mar 2015
they said Bukowski was not a poet
and that if he was
he was a ******* awful one.
but there's something
to be said about a man
who can **** ******
and come out of it
with more respect for them
than for the rest of the
human population.
there's honor to be given
to a man who could
drink all day and
be more than what
all the medical books
said he could be.
and there is credit to be given
to the man who could
unite the displaced
with who he was
as a human being and nothing more.

Bukowski may be
one *******
horrible poet
but he sure
as hell
knew more than we will ever be able to comprehend.
Ford Prefect Mar 2015
every time my candle flickers,
i think to myself,
                             maybe this is God, maybe this is God telling me that he    
                               is real and i am not alone

                                                          ­             but then
                                                                ­       the flame stills
                                                                ­        i go back to work
                                                            ­            and i think to myself,
                              *i knew it was too good to be true
Ford Prefect Mar 2015
all these people
writing about
and looking for
and craving so whole-heartedly
love
in the form of another person.

they don't know what it is exactly,
just something that
has to do with sharing
labored breaths
and not wearing any underwear to the movies.

these idiots think that love
is what they need
in order to be
happy.

do they not already have love?

the sun shines and the trees grow and grass cuts their bare legs and lets them know that they are still alive.  the earth is continuously apologizing by giving flowers with petals so soft you could mistake it for someone you
once held
in your arms.

love is not the answer-
the aftermath is:
destruction.

the only good
and pure
and completely
true things
in this world
come from the
ashes of the
generations before
them.

we have been born into love
but mistaken
       tricked into thinking that destruction
                                                   utter obliteration of the soul
                                                            ­                         the mind
                                                            ­                         the heart
                                                           ­                                         is not the answer.

love is not found in people
but places
                 and their hills and valleys and flowers and water that refreshes the eyes of every tired man.

love is found in the
people that have been broken down.

only they are then able to look at what has been in front of them since before they were born,
only they are able to see what the content will never know exists.

only the lost will find happiness.
Ford Prefect Mar 2015
his **** is
nothing spectacular
but it's hard-
for me-
and it's smooth
             and soft
             and ready to be held
                                         tempted
                                         shown how to stargaze while the sun is still out.
but he
grabs my hand,
pulls me up,
                up and away
from the
only part of him
that will ever beat for me and my blistered hands and chapped lips.

"i don't love you"

and i know.

he lowers down
and kisses my chest
and *****
         licks
         bites
         my ****
and rubs my ****
and that
is all i want from him.
Ford Prefect Mar 2015
i used to think i was "that girl"
who was destined to
live a life
that only amounted to **** buddies and
loves that i drove away
because who the hell wants to get close to a person
                                                          ­             a human
                                                           ­                            born imperfect
                                                       ­                                                         and therefore unable to promise to never leave you or never hurt you or never let you get too far into something that they know will never be capable of lasting as long as you need it to.

but here i am
                       ****** up
                       anxious
                       irritable
                       downright depressed
but ready and prepared and on the way to not being such a ******* idiot who thinks another person
                    another boy
                    another mouth is going to make me happy.

I'm already there.
Ford Prefect Mar 2015
how many times will i write variations of us
that never get a
happy ending?
sometimes i think i am destined to forever
remember you
and that summer
with that one kiss
and the promise i made with no intentions of
keeping it
because i don't know how to love with two hands
                                                           ­       one heart
                                                           ­                        fully
                                                           ­                        unafraid.
                                                       ­                             everything i write is about you and the
different people
i could see
when i looked you in the eyes
and let myself think
                         embrace
                         appreciate
                         and enjoy
every part of you without any sense of anxiety.
and i wonder
what we could be now
that i have a way to cope
                              and live without questioning everything except the ugly.

i wonder if one day i will be able to give our characters
an ending where
we can both by happy
                           not broken
                           or longing
                           or forever regretful
and every stack of cards doesn't mean more than it should.
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