You claim to love me
But you wouldn't
If you knew who I really am
I only reveal parts of me that I can accept
But theres skeletons buried inside me
Their stench carries my sick story
Thick is the scent of death and decay
I make me sick sometimes
As I sit with what I let fester within
I only expose what I think you can stomach
I play the part of someone that deserves you
The opposite of who I truly am
You only love what I show you
I'm afraid you'll hate me just like I do
If I let you have a look inside of me
I never been easy to love
It's even hard for me to live with what I see
So I do my best to distract you
From knowing my reality

Whisky and Poetry
The look in your eyes,
smoldering ******,
begging good times.

A bold and beautiful Celtic Lass.

Emerald eyes and auburn hair 
make this Irish heart beat too fast.

I wish I could kiss her ruby red lips,
caress that creamy skin,
with my calloused fingertips. 

So stunning in moonlight,
My eyes drink her in.

A vision of innocence 
a portrait of sin.

Just a paperback cover
in a bookstore bin.

Polarized and filtered not reality,
A 35 mm dream girl 
I'll never truly see.

But in my mind she's mine
as long as I want her to be.

Through the magic of
Whisky, and Poetry.

If you kiss me once before I die
I will not die a happy man.

I'll die wishing I had more time
to kiss you once again.

To kiss you a thousand times
Like I've done so in my mind.

Pressed against your flesh in
loves passionate embrace.

A lifetime has passed
to find us in this place.

So do not kiss me before I die.

Eternity is far too long
to ruminate on why.

Was this a kiss of love, 
or merely of goodbye?

Please, please don't kiss me!

My dying soul can not bear it.

Sometimes she goes slumming,
and turns up here.

But I'll take her downtown,
have no fear.

After all,
it's what she came here for.

We can do it right here,
down on the floor,
or up against the wall.

Anywhere but the bed,
that wouldn't do it all.

Her hunger must be fed
down on all fours
dress getting *****
begging for more.

Subjugating herself,
denying her wealth,
letting primal urges drive her.

So I'll supply her fantasy,
but in reality I fear.

If she knew the truth
she'd not dare turn up here.

For the truth is
That I love her!

I don’t think I’ve ever seen the same cloud twice.
They scatter in their own way,
spreading across the sky, and crashing into each other.
Without a sound they collide and combine.
They darken and release what they don't need.
A quiet blessing to some farmer in the midwest.

I was waiting for a peach to ripen on the tree.
Three days later it was suddenly out of reach;
As if it wanted to get closer to the sun.
So just a little more, its branches tilted up.
I could draw that tree each day,
And no two sketches would look the same.

I sit at my table, on the side of the street,
watching beautiful people mill about before me.
Some fought the current to buy my wares,
with a smile they disappear into the flow again.
I set up in the same spot each week,
each time with new faces to greet.

Tobacco smoke
Old leather and wood
Cannabis leaves and fir trees
Forest dirt and communion wine
Wearing the perfume
Of this past of mine

If you’d held me more,
Maybe I wouldn’t have ended up
Watching an overdose on the kitchen floor.
If your voice had been just a little softer,
Then maybe older men
Wouldn’t be what I sought after.
If your hands had been less cruel,
Maybe I wouldn’t have to work so hard
To avoid ending up like you.