MY GF LOVES $$$

My head is empty; my girlfriend keeps asking me for money. I tell her she doesn’t have to ask, just take. Take, take, take. When she takes my money it makes me want to cum. 50s, 100s, even the small change foreign bills I keep in a box under my bed for memories are gone. And I feel so clean. And I feel so me.

Every time she takes my money, she leads me one rung up the ladder to heaven. I can see her there, body naked, writhing, making snow angels in the dust and scum and clothes on my floor.

God gave me brown hair because blonde hair is for whores

And he told me
Im pure and virginal
Even though I steal my roommate’s money And bought a semiautomatic gun
and he also said that’s why
Everyone tells me im ugly and mean

BEING CLEAN AND TORTURING MYSELF

Do you want to torture me?
Do you want to torture god’s favorite angel?
Do you want to torture the devil?

You’re such a good man. Good man. Good men hurt pretty girls because they are evil. Even though it’s hard. I deserve it. It’s in your nature. It’s so you you didn’t even realize you did it. But you did. And torture cleans me. Strips away all the pleasure I get from debauchery. Now I sit at parties wondering what was ever so fun about it. Because I’m clean. Clean is being in deep psychological pain. I’m so fucking clean now. You wouldn’t get it.

I HAVE A LIVEFEED OF YOUR BEDROOM CALLED MY MIND

I’ll be there watching, always - not protecting but cursing. Watching your dick, hanging like a loose appendage, waiting for me to use it again.

I do this because I need a hobby. Because hobbies are things you do when nobody loves you. I watch movies too.

CARS SPEAK LIKE ANGELS

Cars speak like angels, too, singing me to sleep, both in their presence and idea - oh god I want a place to go. My life is a test of how unhappy I can be no matter where I am: how quickly I can distract myself and how high I can get, driving again.

The most evil word in the world is “home.”

I was always prettier in the dark.

I'm the Mother Teresa of nothingness, I’m the girl on the corner that would never make you pay for it.

I keep my pain in my heart.

Nighttime was no place for dreaming, it was a place for dancing, for driving, …

daytime was illusory - those people too.