its not you, its me

san francisco is an artists town
theres no room for writers here
not anymore
and i understand
ive run out of things to say about you too
you used to be my beacon, san francisco
when did you turn all
psycho ex girlfriend on me
when did you
become untrustworthy, such a slut
it would be easier to be an
artist, im thinking
get naked and take a few photos
of myself
and explain how
totally vulnerable i am
how this is me
all tattoos and extra flesh
and sadly, seductive sterile smiles
look at how pretty and creative i am
you think youre so smart
san francisco, im disappointed in you
(imagine my shaking finger)
you promised me things
unspoken
you held me late at night and nursed me,
rocked me
buried a well of security
deep, deep, down
dont you remember?
youre pretty slick, san francisco, in
fact you almost had me fooled
but im not like all those others
those "i like tea and reading and being creative"
bitches
they can suck my dick
i wont be 30 and boring with no stories, SF
why wont you stop telling the
same ones
im (bat, bat lashes) falling asleep