drank too much sugar-infused sweetness
and laid upon my stained (various bodily fluids) bed
a little intro-contemplation and the cigarette
I half smoked yesterday afternoon
I saved it
Waste not, want. Or something along the lines of
yearning, yellow coated teeth and red cheap-wine lips.
I sometimes discover places I've already been.
the slap and !
i'm up and off and out and dooooooown
holy mackerel, (is that a bird/word or am I unlucid?)
tender moments filled with the dread
of time elapsing
so prescriptive, and yet the sun still rises
over an ash colored, concrete, gum lined sidewalk.
the absence of cigarette.
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Desperate, Bloodthirsty, ect.
