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I woke up, and my ears were ringing like the Tell-Tale heart. Ring, ring, ringing like microphone headphones, the screeching dog whistle in a bitch's bad dreams. My scream-teen dreams of Slime Time Lives gone by drive-bys gettin' high, drank all the way to drunk and stayed up, still alive. A hangover hunger, eat that screaming meat till my warm puffy eyes well up with sleep, wait to wake up and repeat. Though I breathe easy I need pleasing, a fortune in fulfillment and still aches of incompletion. Mi hermano dice siempre, The poor search for food, the rich search for an appetite.
0
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
The American Hangover
I woke up, and my ears were ringing like the Tell-Tale heart. Ring, ring, ringing like microphone headphones, the screeching dog whistle in a bitch's bad dreams. My scream-teen dreams of Slime Time Lives gone by drive-bys gettin' high, drank all the way to drunk and stayed up, still alive. A hangover hunger, eat that screaming meat till my warm puffy eyes well up with sleep, wait to wake up and repeat. Though I breathe easy I need pleasing, a fortune in fulfillment and still aches of incompletion. Mi hermano dice siempre, The poor search for food, the rich search for an appetite.
joe-4
Written by
American
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
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