Feelings
Saint Louise Was Listening On
12:47 p.m. || 2004-10-23
You know that this motherfucker is the guy that I date, and I know he goes to that sex worker's blog and fucking spanks it over the picture, pro'lly when I haven't gotten any in a week or so, and am feeling most unattractive, I bet you he goes there, I bet you these days he'd rather fuck anything besides me. I'd love to see this dude actually write about me, instead of throw out a picture of me so people can tell him how talented he is.
I give up. I don't know how to deal with anything anymore. I keep waking up in the middle of my life, suprised and appaled at what I see, and helpless to change it.
I used to write poems for Golden Hair. I don't have any words left for that person in my art.