Inviting the light of reason to guide our way.

The Girl on Highway 80

Wasting, erasing, freebasing

Stumbling around looking for dick.
How did this life become such a trick?

Writhing, gagging, grimacing in pain
It’s not about sex; it’s filling a hole.
Unfortunately death cums so slow.

A hole in the heart
A hole in the mind
Fill it with whatever she finds.

“You have a dollar
I need to score”
Said the girl on 80
They call her a whore.

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This entry was posted on October 3, 2015 by in poem, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , .
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