i don't have enough middle fingers
I've spent yet another day withering in this apartment.
mostly sitting on the stoop outside ranting & being hormonal.
giving all the indians dirty looks;
That, and checking the mailbox every hour.
Only to stare at an empty slot, every time i turn the key
Michigan postal workers are top-shelf retarded.
I haven't washed my hair in 7 days;
im such a greaseball, its beginning to dread itself.
psst. baby powder is the trick, a little FYI for all you grimey's out there.
I'm gussied up in a skimpy black, lace up corset
along with the same pair of pants i've been wearing for probably 2 weeks now.
well battered, with chipped nail polish& left over make-up.
I've had a square glued between my fingers all day,
and i like it that way.
I've been listening to manson & rammstein with cops muted on the tube;
randomly getting pissed and fighting with cabinets,
with only the scent of Nag Champa to calm me down.
I swear I'm bipolar amongst many other bad habits & pyschological disorders.
And I sit here, googling pictures of Hasidic Jews,
and wishing i was drunk & stoned & somewhere in London stomping some sick fuck's family jewels with my stiletto thigh-high heels for filthy lucre.
A perfect picture.
I can paint you pretty little fucking pictures all day.
I want to
RUN
DIE
or
GET FUCKED UP
And I think I'm going to check the mailbox again.