It’s so hard creatively now being a target victim and broke ass bitch.


I had to sell my guitar and amp.  I can’t write poetry usually and if I do, it’s sucko.  I can’t afford canvasses or even canvas paper.  Hell, I cannot afford to stay safe and buy food.  I use my foodstamps and my mom sends me enough for a monthly bus pass and a few dollars each month.  I don’t ask.  She just sends it but it’s not enough.  She doesn’t understand.  She’s on crystal methamphetamine so she doesn’t understand much of anything.

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