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Literature Text
Quitting is much harder
than they ever said it would be…
I take excerpts from this life
And spray paint them on my canvas
Everything that reminds
Me of wasted 20’s
the scent of
the jasmine breeze
And things that will never be…
I cannot smile…
And I don’t want to try..
I can only breathe..
I know you hate
me like this...
I know I promised
it would be different this time..
but this black hole
tastes so soothing…
I drink another shot
Of “Hope”
Our Miss Mazzy Star
And every thing is ok…
Because she sings of
Swan wings and New Orleans
With its sinking cemeteries and Weeping trees.
And god damn it of course your
Timeless Bukowski…!
Because reading him reminds me of you…
than they ever said it would be…
I take excerpts from this life
And spray paint them on my canvas
Everything that reminds
Me of wasted 20’s
the scent of
the jasmine breeze
And things that will never be…
I cannot smile…
And I don’t want to try..
I can only breathe..
I know you hate
me like this...
I know I promised
it would be different this time..
but this black hole
tastes so soothing…
I drink another shot
Of “Hope”
Our Miss Mazzy Star
And every thing is ok…
Because she sings of
Swan wings and New Orleans
With its sinking cemeteries and Weeping trees.
And god damn it of course your
Timeless Bukowski…!
Because reading him reminds me of you…
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© 2008 - 2024 Labseven
Comments1
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oh wow... you are good. I 'felt' the sweet darkness of drugs surround me and then smelled the dark decay of New Orleans.. and lives that have turned to the 'sweet darkness' for some comfort.