I’m sittin herecontemplatinwhat the fuckwhat was the purpose of all thisthe months of shakin handsthe dry mouth bargainsthe empty glasses I stared downlike they owed me somethinwhat was the pointof holdin onif the fall still tastes like this?sweet kisses...

Like a butterflyHop on flowersAnd feed on the nectar of flowers.

I don't know when it happened, or how I became so addicted. The moment the clock rolls to 11pm I know it's time…. It's time to meet him.Miss Castanza, if you do not get adequate sleep, you are going...

I have come so very far...just to delve into some poem noir,where everything is black and white,within this gray ambiguity I write. Given my most shady history,I have lived a life of mystery,more than enough to fill this page,penned down...