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Expressionism – Fall 2012

When I’m good, I’m great.
When I’m bad, I’m awful.
Enough life has been lived and many mistakes have been made. No need to keep piling problems. But I keep creating them. Mostly in my head. I’m just convincing enough to believe them. It’s almost too easy to blame them on women. Knowing they evoke something, anything. It’s more than my own self can provide.
It’s always been that way. Lifeless without love or the chase of it.

It just creates problems!
As they go ignored, they begin to seep out, spilling on anyone crossing paths. Undeserving folks whose only misstep was attempting to care. Shit where you eat, idiot, cause that is smart. No wonder every time a lady force feeds you bullshit you gulp it down happily as if everything is just fine and dandy.

It’s those lips.

The kisses.

The eyes.

The simplicity.

The caressing.

The moaning.

The tiniest bit of reciprocation.

It distracts me. Jumbles my mind to an unreadable place. Fuck weak at the knees;  Women just make me weak in head. Would love to say they rob all strength from me but clearly I just fork it over without being asked. Like I give zero fucks. Women are my kryptonite. I give a fuck. I give lots of fucks. Too many fucks, actually. Saying no is just simply too hard when they look me in the eyes and smile.


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