A few swigs of beer,
to overcome the fears.
A few pulls from the bottle,
to stop the tears.
A few puffs from the bong,
helps numb the pain,
when things go wrong.
A deep inhale of nicotine,
to mute the screams
deep within me.
A few mushrooms,
to feel everything I’ve just killed,
All at once,
like a massive wave,
crashing into the soul.
Why do I do this?
Beats the shit out of me.
A sober life
just sounds
boring.
-C.H.
Why is it that we are so eager to appreciate the beauty of a: flower, or a waterfall, or the stars, or a sunset; but we are hardly ever that open to seeing the beauty in each other? Why is that, dear
“A simple request” she says, “Speak to me in poem, intrigue my mind with your words, genuine and authentic, for your words become actions, are the framework of our relationship, and have the power to
There’s a camera on top of the building Next to this one And it points Right at me I lift up my shirt And flash it my hairy nipple Then I give it the finger It moves with me Turning as I walk away fro
