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Friday, October 23, 2009

Confessions of an alcoholic bipolar sex addict





Yellow taxi cab arrived,


Me rushing


To gather poppers


; And refill my baby bottle with rum


I arrived to his apartment, he offered me a drink


I told him I had been drinking


All day, didn’t need more


He asked if I smoke that ghastly smoke or Bob Marley freedom


I declined,


Don’t really do drugs cuz it takes too long to come back


I believe addiction is fingerprinted, and I


Know my demons too damn well


Besides that wasn’t my high


I hoped this sex would be enough, but it never is


I told him to get naked didn’t like Kmart towel hiding my prize


Walked into his flea market apartment,


Four strangers slithering like sweat on athletes


Bed paused to welcome


I liked the smell of new


Could feel my heart applaud like a fat kid in a chocolate cake shop


The itch of dick filling my jeans demanding a pardon


I breathed in the naked seduction as I unzipped


Like a heroin addict freebasing burnet silver plated spoons


The smell of the compromised


Promised I could get off my bipolar mania


Sunday


Was coming


To an end and I couldn’t call into work


Again


Because the hunger hadn’t ended


I knew depression will spill


Waste on Tuesday

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