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Poems

Nuisance


Poisoned

Harder to be obscure

Or to organize

 

But it may be better

Because you don’t know

Who, or where you are

 

Maybe your liver

Will get better

Not likely

 

Even though

This Oriental glow remains

Drinking just the same

 

Fucking god fucking damnit

Charles Bukowski

How I realize

 

How similar I am

To the likes of you

When I’m deep into brews

 

My poetry is awful

More than raw

Dripping mediocrity

 

Oh, Bukowski

How you disgust me

And how I hate myself as well

12 replies on “Nuisance”

Hahaha, thank you for caring about me Rami, but I’ve seen a few psychologists and they’ve never done any good for me. I’m doing a lot better now actually than compared to a year or two ago.

No worries, I was just really pretty kind of drunk last night and writing. I shall never give up, and yes sometimes I bite my fingers to the point of bleeding while writing.

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