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I like the way you take my shirt off, all swift and no qualms.
I like the way you chirp me when I smoke more than two cigarettes a night,
it makes me feel like you're my mother.
I like the way you make me feel like a child, all lolitas and no breakfast.
You dont read as many books as Id like but you still get all my literary references.
I wish ill on every other mouth you find yourself on, all their rotten nipples and dirty pubic hair.
I wish I could singe my lip stain in your head, so no other pink red could be so pink nor so red.
You scratched up my upper lip, and my retinas, all broken up and muddy because I cant look twice
or more. That's why i've been hiding my head from the sun, you should be so lucky as to withstand this week.
I get up quickly, when i'm ready, when i'm ready.
THis is the only love note you will finhd me writing to you that i will never send.
congratulations, you have been upgraded to an unnamed subject in a series of drunk monologues i write
when i find the time and patience and luck to do so. i like you as much as the first cigarette
i have after my first drink. that is a fucking compliment my friend.
oh, you also happen to be that. which is very very rare. savour it, my boy. savour it. did you know that
kurt vonnegut smoked pall malls. i like that you would get that refernece.
this will end soon. when it does, we will pretend it never happened. i will pretend this never happened.