Good morning Friday....Thank God you made it.
This is not poetry,
this is just a poem.
Monday tasted like sh*t,
Tuesday, f*ck i don't even remember Tuesday,
Wednesday wagged it's tale and humped my leg!?!
Thursday smelled like sh*t ; until,
i almost drowned in a bucket of PBR,
and now i feel like sh*t.
(How was your week? i guess you can tell mine was kinda sh*tty)
i should really say crap instead of sh*t.
but then again this is not poetry.
Love is...
a lot of things:
a burning desire to be together,
good night calls,
'Gone with the Wind' type of kisses,
buying a house and letting her choose it,
doing the dishes, so she can rest, ect ect ect...
Pretty things, gorgeous ideas, beautiful dreams.
51 weeks out of the year.
i have been f*cked this week.
no protection,
no lube,
no warning, and
certainly no mercy.
i knew this was going to happen,
it was more than a feeling.
Last Sunday night, before i turned into a pumpkin,
someone stole a pair of my Nikes.
i despise most materials.
i mean, steal my car,
rob my phone,
that is what insurance is for;
but my favorite pair of Nikes'?!?
Someone is a real a**hole out there.
This week really started off on the wrong foot.
i made love to alcohol, pizza, and burgers w/cheese.
My abs curse me like i curse this page.
i didn't read one paragraph of any of my books,
and the only quote i added to my wall of quotes this week,
was "I'm f*cked! (08.15.2010)".
And too prove how much of a truly disgusting knucklehead i was,
i watched Jersey Shore reruns, and i kind of like the show.
i saw this really pretty girl waiting in line at the post office,
so i introduced myself, proceeded to make a fool of myself,
got rejected, everyone in line laughed,
so i proceeded to make a further fool of myself, yet this time,
she laughed.
i left the post office with the name 'Samantha' in my phonebook.
i never called. i do this a lot. i don't feel guilty but i feel like a jerk.
I'm so thankful this is not poetry,
this is just another sh*tty poem.
1 week out of the year,
Horrible things, Ugly ideas, and empty dreams.
Dressing down in jeans,
every other week my bank account smiles,
people are genuinely happier,
4:30 doesn't seem that far away,
a feeling of hope, only if it's two days,
a lot of things:
Love is...
Every single Friday.
Good morning...
Thank God you made it.
*I'm going on vac next week. i can't tell you where. It's not a secret but it is a secret. Weird, i know. Sorry for sounding like a whiny b*tch. This is usually not me. i guess everyone has their bad days or week(s). i haven't gone on a real vacation in 4.5 years so I'm pretty excited. I'm not going to bring a camera but i do plan on doing a lot of writing. i just want to thank anyone that take's the time to read or comment on any of my posts. i really appreciate it and the feedback. i try to read and comment on the blogs that i follow. i respect all artists like i respect all art. I'm just an amateur but i like putting a smile on people's faces. Anyways i hope the best for you guy's today and hopefully we will talk soon.
Respect.
-heartbroke in Chicago
ps my bad for the cursing. i really don't like too. At least not in print.
