information travels faster & sadder

i intentionally wrote it out to be an illegible mess
you wanted me to write you letters, but i’d rather lose your address
and forget that we’d ever met and what did or did not occur.
sitting in the station, it’s all a blur
of dancehall hips, pretentious quips,
a boxers bob and weave.

Maybe We Want False Information… Stoopid!

have you ever

This is why I hate myself, but keep on living: A Rachael Ray Hate Site