Friendship in a Post-Amy World.

I’m living post-Amy. Somewhere between jumping on and off the A and the C and sometimes the F if I need to, I realize that the Benjamin Button curse did not hit me yet, and I may just be getting older. Definitely not a problem. Well, it wasn’t an issue until I began looking around…

cover, girl

cover, girl she scared for me to look she hadn’t been watched over in years and banished the eyes of men who pretended to remember her beauty i can see it in her face or under that disdain she poorly wore as makeup cover yourself girl

carry it better next time

we carried that love around inside us like some disease like some kind of cancer we never bothered to fight we could never beat it who would want to who wishes to rip their guts out thinking it would distract from the tears leaving the under parts of your eyelids raw i still remember kitchen…

ten years should change us all

(photo by kwesi abbensetts) she’s early 20s and the only thing that matters is whose pussy’s better she raises her hands in hip hop fashion in urban fashion bootleg eurotrash jeans what never matters is what happens after the sex she just expects them to leave it’s what she’s grown accustomed to but she’s gotta…

little weedhead of my dreams

i wanted to write a poem about the girl i watched all night looking at me like she knew me but all that came out was a puff of smoke from lungs i thought went boot black with the heart i kept beating for the girl who looked at me everyday with new eyes and…