Early poems - Kinda Dax Noire

Last cigarette
Eyes kicked open with coffee
I stare at the bathroom mirror
Sour milk ---
The smell of squeezed whiteheads

In my dreams I move
From triumphant violence
Searching for a new woman

Somebody begat my heart
Somebody stirred my soul
With a recipe for beginners
Opening my weekends with sleep
Closing it with nightmares of tomorrow