i can smell a clue about as well as a rock and if you’re waiting for me under a rock
i had most of the adults fooled the family was easiest they were none too bright what little smarts i had i must have got from my father
i looked to my right hoping to see a bass player keeping the low end tight behind me hoping to see someone
the fast foot of gloom quick through labyrinths of joy always catches up
elusive needle hides from him in a haystack like looking for home
she passes a man but her scent is the full moon and a wolf follows
i began to tell a grim story of a puppy left alone beneath an overcast sky at first i saw a lost dog sad and without
that moment right after you’ve finished readin… when the mind gets to digest and what Jeffers referred to as “The honey of peace”
submerged so deeply in abysmal woes of self he makes his last choice
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
man that lives to yearn sips at the tit of poison no will, but to die
drink from the dream cup welcome those ghosts of morning don’t fade out, sleep in
incredible love making will turn wolves into pups bears, cubs again and icy hearts melt to a puddle
watching horror films on vhs with gramma saturday nights
this shirt screams “i’m not still fucked up from last…
