photo by hungrybison
Grinding my teeth,
my eyes won’t close,
My hands just shake,
I hate being a user,
I hate being clean.
This place if filthy,
there’s blood on the wall.
Awake for two weeks,
Filed under micro stories, original writing, outlaw poetry, poem
Tagged as American West, drugs, Fresno, outlaw poetry
Reblogged this on lickmymidget.
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Join 1,104 other followers