What’s worse is I never write anymore
I’m too hung up in a sling
of different girls, jobs, robberies.

What a life to make sure you have enough.
Enough beans or SPAM.
Enough condoms and lube.
Enough cute characters on MSN.

They always fall for that shit
soon they’re rolling on the ground
shivering from tongue

soon they’re calling once a day
texting into eternity

soon they’re bleeding on the bedsheets
and your picking up the hairs.