I finally opened the Charles Bukowski book Chanel bought me
And with that
,
I've found a bit more of myself.
Why is it that way?
Finding scattered remnants of who
You
Really
Are
In other things....
And with that, does being born or dying finish the puzzle set.
What if you lose pieces?
Maybe we're meant to be incomplete.
If I'm
Created in God's image
How can I resemble something so perfect
When I find only problems in myself.
This could be the last time I put on my shoes
or listen to music that I really don't like.
She's angry with me again & I think it's both of our fault.
People say fuck your heart, just entertain us.
I've been doing my own thing for a while
Yet everyone is screaming to take that route
So is it conforming now?
Your mind has more control over your body
Push as the whistle sings in the darkest night
She said she doesn't like who I am when I drink
I don't really like to drink myself
I only appreciate how it wakes me up
Later Days, Longer Nights
No comments:
Post a Comment