This book is a midnight on a Tuesday without sleep, a suicidal Wednesday writing a few words to try to calm myself down, or a Saturday, drunk, as I drop a camouflaged tear on paper.I don't know of a better way to quiet my insomnia, than to fuck my demons with a pair of suicidal poems as I listen to some jazz. I'm writing this in the dark, at 3:10 in the morning as I listen to Blue in Green by Miles Davis. Nothing like a saxophone to accompany my words...
Related Subjects
Poetry