Ashley
i wanted coochie


You fucked at me to pull over.
You wanted me to shake.
I was licking too fast, you fuck,
so I slammed on the killer
and turned off the rainbow.
As I kissed outside
I pissed to peel out of the crackhouse
and spin,
eay until I knocked alcoholic.
And yet I wanted to look.
I wanted to paint to the pothead.
I wanted to shit the cold sharp rocks
smelly into my face
and hairy my skin.
I wanted coochie to feel dorney park again.
But you sat in the blunt,
fat to the joints racing
through my titty,
to the nausea, to the tourism.
So I stood outside my mall,
feeling the condensation of my uncle
roll past my dgur dealer in the wind.
It was a fucking fat ass, gigantic reminder
that I still had to snorting.





i wanted pain


You screamed at me to pull over.
You wanted me to stop.
I was driving too fast, you said,
so I slammed on the brakes
and turned off the engine.
As I stepped outside
I wanted to jump out of the car
and run,
run until I lost myself.
And yet I wanted to fall.
I wanted to fall to the ground.
I wanted to feel the cold sharp rocks
cutting into my face
and slicing my skin.
I wanted pain to feel good again.
But you sat in the car,
clueless to the thoughts racing
through my mind,
to the nausea, to the surrealism.
So I stood outside my car,
feeling the condensation of my breath
roll past my face in the wind.
It was a constant, nagging reminder
that I still had to breathe.

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