i have three words:
more fake blood.

i think i only like to write poems
about night:
the street sighs
as the night continues
and the music plays
cool cool
wordless sound
playing concurrently
with the sound of night

oh nighttime is to be spent alone
willing the conscious mind deeper in
through caverns of intention
which are best understood
after an arbitrary conversation
with a stranger
interpreted after lights go out

what is this night made of?
this night is organic product
mixed with the metal of man.

+(((((((((((())))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))):::::::::::::::::+

rainy day
really attempting to gather my life
into one basket that doesn't have any holes
in it.

i can't explain everything that has been happening
lately but a lot of it has been awesome.

"I’ma shake you off though
Get up on that horse and
Ride into the sunset
Look back with no remorse"
-cocorosie