I give you everything I got… for a little piece of pie. 

I’m so tired, that all I can do here is write to you, and smoke. Yeah, I’m going up in smoke, I’m a river of grey flowing up and on toward the ceiling, or heaven, or whatever it reaches first. 

I’m so tired of everything except for you. I’m still not tired of you. You’re in the shower, you’re in the rain, you’re somewhere wet, and I’m here, just wanting you, so wanting you and so tired of everything else. 

I’m going fucking insane here. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see what I’d give just to have you stay with me? Not that I don’t need to be left alone to my own devices from time to time. 

She is that broken winged bird, limping off towards sunset on a steady breeze. 

She is that black bird perched outside my window. Waiting and watching. 

I gave her everything, and now all I’ve got left is a little piece of me.