So I stumbled upon HP one day,
not really, I fell face first
with a glass of wine in my hand
giggling like a school girl
except that uniform hadn't fit in
30 years so it was kinda more like
a 50 year old stripper pretending
she can actually still giggle without crying.
I made a few friends, well, I say friends but we were all ******
working the same lame dead corner
Of course, some of us went on to marry well and some just felt they
could no longer worship a vengeful
God and probably stuck a knitting
needle in their eye, or something.
I'm not going to name names here!
Let's just say one went onto fame,
self publishing was cool way before
YOU ever thought of it and another
just yanked the chain around their neck so hard you never even heard
their spine crack and then one dear
friend got ganked by their own self importance.
Trust me *******!!! THAT is a loaded gun.
But this is all Ancient History to the
those that were born during the
I Love Myself with Hate or
I Cut Myself with Love era.
I'm talking about friendships
that fossilise over time
creating deeper bonds than
I love you, no, I love you, no I love you times
So, watching all those that couldn't hack the pace of the streets died
one by one.
Marriage, Suicide, Shot in the Foot
until the brain bleed out,
they all fell like over bloated flies
gorging on the rancid meat left lying around.
A few survived the sickness by purging,
You know, when you stick your fingers down your throat and expel the garbage from within except,
that kind of concept can be deadly
when you have blood red ****** nails...
The remaining 'Oh Heavenly Father, why do you forsake me' ones
retreated to the HP Elysium Fields, passing on their wisdom to a baby kind that will never care about anything but their own grandiose style of taking a dump in the wilds of cyberspace.
So ****** days sadly came to an end at the fork in the road,
yes peeps, pun intended
until one day, I met a guy that ran me over,
literally hit me with a car and left me
a ****** mess, stood over me and said
"How much ***** and you better deduct dollars for the dent in my front fender"
As I chewed on my blood red ****** nails and spat teeth into the street
I offered him a hand and he said
I'll take that and your mouth and
let's see what you can do with
We drove to the Motel Dive
and I asked him if he knew where all the other hookers had gone from the same lame corner where we all carved our own slices of heaven and he threw me down to the ground and ripped off his shirt.
Upon his flesh was carved each of those names that I had once kicked up heels with, ****** around and laid under the street lamp with,
watching all the little preppies in their pretend Oldsmobiles cruise by without a single worry on their shoulders except for the boulder sized chips and
their own inadequacies riding shotgun on their lips.
The one HP friend that threw me to the ground and carved my name upon their flesh is also the one who resurrected me.
But I think he may have killed all the other ones but, they were dead before they knew it!
Hell is where all your friends are right?
taught me everything I know (and a lot I didn't) would gladly follow my friend into the fire.