The Buddha lived in a castle. He wasn’t free. So he found a tree.
if eventually we don’t fuck, we end up fighting lol
I’m not a damsel
but I’m distressed
For one man I love most
And the other loves me best
I chased Sunset Boulevard
With a whiskey belly
Away from his home
Towards the other
To let him sleep alone
I should have stayed
But I forfeit my druthers
For the people I love
And I suffer the blinking road
Cause I’d rather be a martyr
Than somebody’s couch potato
And if he said he wanted me
I’m sure I would’ve stayed put
The night was desperate for me though
And I could feel her beckon me forth to stray
Thrust through the broken neon alleyways
Windows drop to the gasp of feeling
Streets murmur erotically to the scrape of a wheel
Eyelids shut but the city she will take me
Engulfed in her embrace
Tempting my intoxicated gut
To possibly be greeted by her face
First step’s admitting your addicted.
and then the second one’s addmitting there’s a God.
and every time I go outside, I seem to hollow out my pride
to look at my reflection.
Aint it odd?
Don’t have a cigarette to take out my new grievance.
I love my body and my mind too much to sell.
If I could fathom how much more, I yearn to feel at what’s in store,
maybe I’d stop this;
It’s hard to tell…
Bulletins of mannequins who have no where to go
somehow we’re like them wrapped up in plastic
Now here’s a sin, just weigh on in because you ‘oughhta know
I’ve bought myself a fancy thing
to preach at you through dancey sings
I’m more complex than states that swing
my life is not a show.
It’s on the fourth step you write out all you know
step up again and grab a friend who hears real good
because I don’t need nice vermouth to welcome monsters of my truth
Step up again.
I know I should.
She told me I’m a junkie once so I’m forever climbing
upon this quest for water cause more oil can destroy
Don’t need a pill to stand real still, just to challenge my own will
to meet my greatness…
Joy, Joy, Joy!
“As a writer, you should not judge, you should understand.”