like we try to do
in spite of our mistakes
and horrible lapses
in spite of who we weren't, before
in spite of what we're neglecting
w
w
you know it's always over like that
the next morning, another day, cresting
that hurdle like there's nothing to it
and the thing of it is: that's the fundamental truth
for whatever it is
calling the shots
it goes on
and it goes on
and it just keeps going on like that
even when it doesn't go anywhere else
i screw up my resources
i smear it all over with words
it's what i do
it's how i'd like to cope
maybe i'd cope better in a surplus
of cannabis-scale orgasms and cheese
not at the same time. but
alternati
why is it always love
that hurts more than anything?
what else did i think would?
