Leaning on heart’s gate staring at a
Solar eclipse blackening out my view
So I might never see you
Crawling into my heart again.
I used to want to be a writer. Not just a person who writes; I wanted to be a WRITER. I wanted people to tell stories about how I would get up at 4 AM and do a bump of cocaine and hammer away at a typewriter for 9 hours before I drank my daily bottle of dilaudid and fucked one of my 12…