write about smoking or just smoke
the queer rich kid who couldnt look at me
i could just drink drink and drink
drink the way it could snow
he is so perfectly a little we sweet and small
it seems like all i do is move things around
and then drink or sleep
am i just so fucking stupid
now something wants to go to sleep
what if im dying?
what if that isnt diaper rash?
what if that is blood?
i guess im dying
the question is how and when?
what did you expect?
would you have done anything differently?
isnt it beautiful just the way it is?
it is
the power is out
and how quiet it is
it makes me feel like writing
or at least sitting around
with the baby
doing pretty much nothing
my body is falling down
it seems
red blotches everything is flakey and itchy
the painted pussy boxes and other purple victories