Boston. January. Temperature near zero.
  You had no heat. Naked under covers our
  breath smokes in passion not to be denied
  like a fire breathing dragon called Love.

I think the world's become a
cartoon we're expected to believe.
We'll drink and smoke and swallow
pills and clench fists to shoot hope
into our veins. Nothing is forever.
We die in mourning. Always noon.

I lived as long as I could.
Life wore me down day by day.
Pills and shrinks and shocks tried
to solve me. My poems put my
puzzled life together but all they
saw was crazy girl lost in modern
times without her north star. I
died with my head in their oven.

Life isn't precious. It's comical.
It's a wonder the human race is
still here. We're addicted to any
thing that makes us high enough
to escape the dreary life we live.
We **** everything. We put ****
in our veins for a minute of peace.
We die to escape loneliness finally.