Anybody you know?

Hey Girl,

Well baby I've been wondering how you are doing these days because I figure it must suck sometimes to be a bitch like you,

Just existing, pretentious and vague, going thru a motion or two,

Not really living for anything in particular except a tick of time here or over there somewhere.

You know, one with that perfect mixture of chemical toxicity, moral indifference and

Comatose conscience that lets you stumble head first into one of the brutal and sad, sad scenarios that so fascinate your kind.

Situations that simply hypnotize you,

Little just maybes that offer a hook-up with guiltless oblivion, conscious unawareness and semi safe cover girl camouflaged trauma,

A chance to dope dance some soul blight away and to pay twisted homage to the countless unforgivable and unforgettable

"On poor little you!"

Inflicted sins of selfish others and to forfeit any claim to tearfully sworn debts to be payed back bitch-like someday by abusing yourself even worse in the black eyes blood shot red shadows of hard core little girl long lost Hollywood gutter moments,

Moments fueled by clichéd and slightly violent lust,

Malignant degenerating endorphin desires and of course one of those foul, foul unscratchable methamphetamine itches,

The kind of itches that infect rush heat warped bi-polar curse-onalities like yours

With a promise coated lie of satisfaction,

A satisfaction that can only just maybe live in the suicidal death of a little piece of who you then never again get to be.

It's an insignificant semi-regular occurrence of course,

Well lost in the white noise hiss and moan of one of your fractured minds between the scenes character shift,

A piece of you destined from the first big hit rushes birth of your new manifestation to be left chalk line outlined behind in one of your standard spinning out of control

Over the shoulder cotton mouth croaked "so what!' exits

And eulogized on a nostril steamed compact line snort mirror with the cracked finger-tip smeared caption,

"OH WELL"!