Day: February 11, 2010

i wrote you a series of letters
that i never sent to you.
i recently burned them
and it felt good.
well, i rolled ‘em into joints
and smoked them.
which is probably why
it felt so good.

i drive fairly safe,
though i still constantly fear
that my brakes will fail

old lady insists
for me to remain seated
my stop passes by

whatever you want
to call that spade
is irrelevant.
you are still
digging your grave
with it.

you are still
uncomfortable.
and i am still
unapologetic.

i could have
said it better
myself.
(but i never did.)