Does this guy ever sleep?!?

Yes... I assure you I do. Just having a bit of an insomnia-ridden weekend. It isn't all bad though; Insomnia is a great tool for writing. Lines spew forth with ease. Granted, headaches are usually accompanying them... but... you've got to accept the good with the bad. This next piece, yes yes - You're getting the hang now! - is right out the mind. I have some others I want to tweak before I post. You heard correctly... I used a synonym (if slangish) for edit. I do want to change a couple things. But until then... read this one. The River Man implores you.

Spicy

She does what she must
Because she must.
No one knows if thats enough
but they accept it,
afraid to shatter their
homes of glass
they let the stones be.
Instead flicking pebbles
into filthy corners when
her eyes are turned away.

"Dirty whore"
they often begin,

"I bet she enjoys it."

"I bet she wants it,
Needs it even."

"It's probably for drugs,
Junkie bitch."

Their slander makes them giggle.
They aren't evil,
their minds just need to
balance the evil that
slops from their mouths.
A light-hearted laugh to
ease their conscience.

Hate in jest isn't really hate,
they tell themselves.



Far from their laughter
she's coiled around a pillow,
squeezing the life from it.
Wishing it were herself.
Her face is drenched in tears.
Her mouth tastes of vomit -
She welcomes it.
Any taste but his.

The humming begins
in her mind. Always does.
Calming as she
reminds herself
She does what she must
because she must.
She knows thats not enough
but she accepts it

and hums herself to sleep.