Elizabeth Horan

Alcoholic Betty

Alcoholic secretary smokes a pack a day. Hides in her car at lunch puffing shame fags alone – Hangover Betty – she is a sorry...

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Dusk falls in the night with no end

Hours slip by ticking Out cells of my eyes One laborious, one Yogurt, wet, heavy Slides thick like thighs Waitout the drumlike Dance of...

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So. I. Do. This.

You don’t have to be lonely. I am right here waiting to light up your eyes. I am a dying sun and you are right, I am the realest...

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