it’s a bitter loneliness
that stabs my weary heart
who would’ve thought
that emptiness
could hurt so much
chocolate bar wrappers
empty beer cans
Bukowski books
late night, early morning near-silent hum
a scared little boy
hiding behind
this grizzly beard
trying to find strength
but getting only weaker
with every sip
need better drugs
to kill these moments
and make me forget
i’m just so tired
of this same old shit
need some sleep
dear nobody
lets drink to it
(1.30 in the morning)
it’s only been a month
since my goodbye to her
a moment feels like a lifetime
when it comes to us
a month is an infinity
it’s the songs…
they are bringing all this out
me indulging
in my dark secret
my pretty little drug
(1:30 in the afternoon)
in the past being with another woman helped
but even then i would often think of her
pretend it was her
lie to some of them that i loved them
i’ve always been pretty good with women
certain kind of women…
my kind of women
when i sing and play
it drives some of them crazy
i prefer to make them crazy before they know i can make them jealous
then i sing songs of unrequited, merciful love
to a crowd of crazy, jealous women
about a girl who is not them
now i can’t afford other women
i can’t afford to be in places where i would meet other women
i can’t afford it financially
but in other ways as well
in all ways.
my patience has run dry
it’s hard to be around anybody
women or men
i like not having to talk to anybody
not having to listen