My eyes are darker than the inside of my mind
I can't even imagine.
I always tell people I write, but I really don't.
I just jibber jabber my thoughts and the end result is usually twisted and sloppy
But I am still a writer.
Something consisitent about me,
which is a rare thing with me
consistent positibe attribute? No way
I'm tired of working at the club.
Everyone's bitching
Everyones's complaining
because business is up
but the funds are down
and it's annoying and we feel used and tired
I can speak for us all
I can't count how many times I heard
"I didn't even make 100 dollars tonight"
*gets tipped on stage*
"yay now I have 22 dollars"
I'm walking out with 200,
I might as well be a waitress.
Not at the club though.
They are leaving with close-to nothing, it's so sad to see.
Cuticles peeling
calloused hands
my feet smell terrible
my eyes are darker then his soul
and my sons hitting is getting worse
but I woke up today
