A poem about the fun side of addiction.
Where is the methadone clinic for the people who take drugs with their eyes and thumbs? Why does asking for the wifi password feel like finding a vein?
No ideas. Writers block. Fuck it, just put something on the page, then hit post. But what if it doesn’t make sense? Doesn’t matter, hit post, keep posting. Post post post. You need the likes. True, I’m fiending. That means you’re addicted. Yup, and twitter is my dealer. You should quit. You just told meContinue reading “Your Likes are My Crystal Meth”