If you’re losing your soul and you know it, then you’ve still got a soul left to lose."*
Charles Bukowski

I miss you
holy ****, I miss you
I'm not saying it out loud

because i can't even say it in my head.
I am
going to hell.

He tells me he likes
his girls selling drugs
just like him

I smile a bit.
I am hated despite my
despises my

and i stretch out a bit
hey, how about
that eighth you promised me?

hold up, girl
we're almost to my house.
and i think maybe it's your fault

then i remember my morals threw themselves
out of the car
and at what highway?