Just Because You Think I Can’t Get Laid, Don’t Think It’s Not A Girl. Or Maybe.  

I haven’t seen her in a while

They say she hides inside my sweaty t-shirts.

Or the nausea arousing socks that reek of boredom.

The dirty plates that fill my maggot stomachs.

Who touch me inappropriately once in while.

With their crisp fluttering wings.

I cleared it all up,

And my room smelled of floor cleaner,

But where was she?

I looked into the coffee mug; with a few dead flies at the bottom,

I smoked up, I drank a bit, Syringes and snort. Yes Evrything man!

But where is she?

I went down hunting,

Breasts and ….

The cursor that blinks,

Is staring at the new word,

Yet to be born.

But where is she?


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