Face

You send a message out into the ether, knowing full well the repercussions you face. You pause to follow the face. The sting is too sharp. The mark is left. You'll feel that one again in the A.M. Paid 6 dollars. 4 for the beer, 2 for the tip. 2 because I'm in the industry. I understand the plight of this occupation . Unless you really give a shit. Then you're just dull. That also depends, though. I'm burning up inside. That bathroom had walls covered in chalkboard paint. I LOVE YOU was scribbled on them. Chicken-scratch. You can tell a lot about that one by their handwriting. GODDAMN. Eh, what hell, I'm in love. I could drink up every ounce of that woman if she'd let me. Unfortunately, I can't. Probably wont ever again. You never know. In this place, where the pain never dulls. In this place, where the bulk of everything you dislike surrounds you, yet you somehow feel comfortable. In this place, where you're not found & on the way home, you burn bridges. Goddamnit. Goddamnit is all I have to say.