June 18, 2015

Responsible, accountable and accurate...those are the traits of an adult. But where is the child? Int/woman + tequila + weed. It's inside an ink pen, fruit booting around the circus; I am free. A miser to love, judging and silent, unable to express pure love. I think I've failed you a number of times...times when I should have backed you up and I faltered. The true belief missing between our separate puzzles, a gap that may never reach...

on a woman: they are to be tight and tiny, thin and graceful, always perfect, exuding mother nature herself; ruthless, frightening and outlandish. True nature, everything and nothing, nowhere and everywhere...the steam and the boiling water, rain falling and waves crashing...

"I like my men like whiskey; aged and mellow..."