Wednesday, January 03, 2007

18 lines

A hundred pages of words or more and only half of them like me
The other half taunt me and tell me what I know
Each word you write is worse than the last they say
Fuck you
You dont own me
But they do

I can smoke so many cigarettes before the ideas appear in the clouds
Then I write them
Then they taunt me
Then I wave my hand
And they're gone
Like magic

I had to find a way to drink alcohol and coffee together
So I put them in the same cup
Every drink you drink makes you worse than the last
Fuck you
You dont own me
But they do

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