The one

I cant describe it
Hence i cant make a poem out of it
Its too bad
People usually say love is the best topic for a poem

I dont see it
It dumbs you
It fucks you
in a bad way
(And in a good way)
It does something to you

But i couldnt tell
Hes too far away
And i too fucking miss him
So im gonna screw a stranger in his name
But dont tell him
Hell get pissed
But its my way to tell him
I love you little man.

Drunk

I had a flashback today as I was pulling down my underwear. I thought about that time you touched me and wasn't nice. But I guess it's fine. I thought of you, but I can't tell you because you'd laugh and I'd laugh too. I'm sorry. For real. We did have interesting conversations though. I still remember the time you told me about your dog named Hendrix. He couldn't play the guitar (I asked) but he sure was black. I heard he died. At least he's with Jimmy now.
"Who broke your heart?", the other one keeps asking. I won't tell him about you. Because he's not worth it. Because he's not you.

Chuck

Somewhere between reading textsfromlastnight and chuck palahniuk,
I lost you.
I could go on and on about the complications of our choice,
yet I'm intrigued by your late behavior.
The haircut.
The outfits.
The drinking.
The coke.

It makes me think that,
after all,
you're having a harder time than I ever did.
And it makes me cry.
But don't worry,
they're happy tears.