i drifted onto your shore a withered vessel the skeleton of a ship torn sails draped over masts like dead bodies

streets become narrow and sidewalks vanish layers are important heavy socks and the right pair of boots

when you don’t know for as long as i haven’t known you start to get used to it you don’t worry so much about solv…

if ever he drowns a swimmer will miss water life regrets no death

that is another man’s suicide if i kill myself there will be hookers

this shirt screams “i’m not still fucked up from last…

illuminated with the yellowish-ora… parked alone now waiting to be driven away by the last man at the office dedicated to his job

it is not just missing the good times slamdancing in a circle pit with your best buds at a rock show blacklit basement parties

i think about her at least once every day i think about all the different st… that i could take to get to her ho…

his grin covered in melted chocola… his hands covered in blood and no one to stop him thieves are not running scared they are running the show

Once I was a psychopath who took quite a shine to his ax. Many times I’d leave a blood bath… but meticulously clean, and particularly keen,

Charles with his typewriter and bottles a bluebird held hostage in his hea… all the women he wanted all the jobs he didn’t

it burned slow as i sat in front of a mirror listening to overplayed psychedeli… music from the 60's it was the first time i ever smoke…

quick to lock ourselves in a prison cell of arrogance incarcerated by our own egos freedom can not happen until we reach through the bars

i followed the pigeons to Gordon park just to hear them coo their electric feathers alive in the sun