Where’s Jack……?

Blood shot eyes resemble only a fraction of the damage done. Veins coursing with traces of whiskey and rails of lightning, thoughts tormented with demons calmed only by destruction of oneself. Where does this end, where is my light, the floor is giving way and only a door remains in my path. By the heat […]

Bukowski

‘I drive around the streets an inch away from weeping, ashamed of my sentimentality and possible love.’                               -Charles Bukowski