It would clog up the bag and you would throw the whole thing into the sea

There’s no amount of $$$ you could offer me
            To shut my mouth

Loud noises bother me. Crunching on chips. What did they do five hundred years ago when they didn’t have chips? They ate grapes. Quietly.

i allow myself to feel joy listening to Anita Baker Same Ol Love and
when im prescient of the joy i rock a lil harder. 

boyfriend has tourette's

dick ass ugh lick butt fuck slut

You'll never raise an army 

How many t shirts is the ass model pushing
I'll never sell more books
than ice cream I've scooped
Everything is in its natural order

Is trying to want the same as

Do I look erratic
in my Robert Cavalli jeans?

I tell her I want some kissing, one
minute of mat kissing before lesson plans,
emails, dishes.

Dexedrine,
obedient beauty,

a low-calorie
alternative

for excess.

He’s feeding the gift horse / Paranoid discourse

I pull them apart like a harried cashier, rub the magenta-lined ones on my face, ink my cheeks with toxic blush.

My boy on the boulevard bubbling.
Triple wick rip tide in my mind.

sipping from a can of lukewarm non-alcoholic PBR in between the routine 

He said everyone is going to die except us
 

Well, it’s happened
there is a baby
I just found out 
and he is precious

there is a baby now
and the father is handsome
he has a Sherpa-like
quality that gives me calm

I am comforted:
he

To shut down and cool off like my laptop
All I need is wind and weed

and Tahiti exists even if
I will never see it

The only thing grows faster than corn here is despair.

i am on the bus
i think

I was six years old.
He was a German Shepherd named Andy.

crushes and snorts several thousand milligrams of sildenafil on a nsfw livestream and masturbates until his heart explodes

the sexiest quality in a partner was the ability to space out

where Mother had hung on the wall
our Hogarth prints and crucifix

I had started doing aerobics and running in place in our townhouse living room when Chad was at the golf shop. I’d found a recipe for whole wheat banana bread and I made a loaf every Sunday and every

after Charles Bukowski