Sent from my iPod
My stomach is empty
So is my stride
Where will I be in forty five
At the bar drinking wine
I’ll decompress slowly
After the drinks hit me loose
And I’ll write my poems
Cause for now I have a home
And I still feel like I exist
Amethyst you beautiful bitch
Are you my muse?
Are you my truth?
Are you the only bliss in my existence
Are you silver
Do you wish you were gold?
I wish I was.
I wish I wasn’t this drink
I wish you weren’t the cup
Depression?
Drink up Hemingway
Mania made me
Depression made me
This red cabernet soothes me
Poetry saved me
Drink up Hemingway
Drink up
As I wait for Amethyst
And an indigo rose
a fat man folds his daily news
