madpoe317

Wednesday poem

i am ok with giving up on love
and i know the one that i truley love
will not see this but it wouldnt matter if she did
or didnt there is no difference now
i am sick i am tired
i want another smoke.
i want another smoke.

i am ok i meet girls all the time
we exchange numbers
i never call
i miss my dogs
i would rather have ryott by my side.
i miss the lil bastard oggie

fuck it i am going to go smoke on my
balconly now and look out on LA
and slip to the realization that comfort
in living with out love
is a suit that was stitched together
by god with fate texture strings

i miss chicago and pain will never leave.
i know where my fuckups go
when i say NEVER AGAIN

Good Night.