I drink coffee, she drinks beer
your lack of hair intrigues me
still tasting last night this morning
everything about you makes me nervous
long island eateries full of douches
its always sunday night these days
cigarettes, carbs, booze: short, sweet life
she feels blue. I'm still yellow.
smoke hangs in thin midwestern skies
I wish we could smoke here
lungs are black hearts are red
get passport ready just in case
people stare as I write alone
logic whispers fears shout need therapist
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