I miss her | & not the type of missing when you’re alone, not the type when you’re broken down half drunk, not even the type when you know she’s the one. I’m talking about the kind of missing that when you’re full of happiness…you wish th...
I wonder how many women are held up in their bed waiting to be sung to, served wine to, read poetry to, kissed slowly with.
She was the reason I started to write but her beauty is kept me writing.
Tonight, I decided to take a stroll down to my local liquor store. Maybe I’ll find a refreshment to wash down this full moon. I hate showing up & the clerk fucking knows my name, perhaps because I’m a regular. Anyways got my shit, left…barely c...
