Hookers Are Cheaper Than Happiness
I had washed my scars in a over excessive life and embraced every reminder in pain and found memories.
I had a few then had a few more.
Loved , Lost and often found I was far better suited the role of a bastard than true lover of one.
We all know one that breaks us slowly over time and Susan had dug her nails in and drawn blood far to often for me to forget.
I remembered her above all others she was bitch but she understood that sex was meant to be treated as war everything was given and no remorse was ever shown.
She had passion but she lacked a heart and she held no concern for any but herself.
We once were happy.
It came with a price tag I would never be willing to pay for again in this lifetime.
Hookers are far cheaper than happiness.
And a empty release is far better than the agony of a rabid decline
I often thought of her with another.
They didn’t give a shit as long as they got paid.
They had a lot in common with her.