Rainy Night In Soho---For you.

My Childhood Bedroom

Had four walls. Two built in beds with comforters left over from the previous owners. They were turquoise and pink. Actually, they were two sheets sewn together which provided me with no warmth.

Los Angeles, You Dirty Whore

The mornings are the worst. I walk outside my apartment on Argyle. Down past the giant bird tree and I hear the freeway. There is nothing to love on this street. Not my apartment.

On Being Nineteen and My Own Cowardice

I met a guy tonight. I know he is going to read this and I hope he doesn't get pissed for me writing it, because I just can't help it. And that, my friends, is the answer to why I fight with so many of you. You ask for silence and I refuse.

What Can I Say?

If there is a time to say the words to you, It will come by moonlight while I am under another man. Grunting and breathing, but saying no names.