Boiled Like A Cheap Lobster

drinking beer and sweating like

a fucker cause my fan wont work

i’m naked

and i can’t open the window

cause all the spiders will get in

and

crawl over my face

so i write and drink as the evening disappears

blissfully unaware of

the horrors outside that destroy

beauty and innocence

like it’s something so easy

and lighting a smoke

i put my head in my hands

for it makes me feel ill

and i’m always ill

every day

in every way

things are getting worse

always worse

and i know the only way out

is through

it’s just the way it is

says this bleary eyed

mess

of a

man

Categories: Poetry

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