I get high to forget.
I get low to sleep.
Christine called tonight and
her little voice was music.
I spat on the ground as I smoked.
I watched t.v.
There were so many streets in Manhattan.
Wine is easy drinking.
I was alone and alone and
I was happy.
I want to be sober.
I am scared that I won't.
Life gets heavy.
The past is a bitter taste
in my
mouth.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
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