Music for the poor.

I have only loved once,
and when it was over
I self combusted in
every shot glass
and bottle I bought.

I sought refuge
and found courage
in the form of liquid gold
otherwise known as alcohol.

ending up with battle wounds
in the form of tattoos.
At my worst I branded myself
in Swedish as a cunt.

I remember being 15 or 16 and finally feeling somebody understood me in the world.