Herb smoke fills the room.
I watch TV through rising smoke.
I write rib to floor.
I ruin my cervical spine
To bring you this
No words will fix a messy bed.
You didn't make your bed.
Your mother made it.
Your mother made it.
And here you sleep.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 5:00 AM UTC
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