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Failures often become art. And art can never fail.

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Art Failure Myself Wisdom

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I never drink in the morning. Mornings are for drugs.
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Drink Drugs Morning Myself
She was only a collection of flaws and she was beautiful.
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Beautiful Collection Flaw Herself
She was an artist on top of me, and soaked my sheets with poetry.
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Artist Myself Poetry Sex
Late nights. Poetry. Cigarettes. and a wounded heart, trying to forget you.
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Forget Heart Night Poetry Try Wound Yourself
Failures often become art. And art can never fail.
TONY COBLE

Art Failure Myself Wisdom
She wanted romance. I just wanted to fuck the stars out of her eyes.
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Eyes Myself Romance Sex Stars
We search for meaning. And destroy it.
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Destroy Meaning Philosophy Search
Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes, it’s just poetry.
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Poetry Silence Word
It’s funny how love fades, and they become more than a poem about yesterday.
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Fade Love Past Poem
I liked her simplicity. She wanted coffee and orgasms.
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Coffee Herself Simplicity
She wanted love. So I fed her, inch by inch.
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Fed Herself Love Myself Sex
Sometimes I wonder if these rain soaked shoes will get me home.
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Home Myself Rain Shoes Time Wonder
Always falling but not for anything.
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Attitude Fall One Liner
He opened her cages, and freed the things inside.
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Cage Freedom Myself Open
This heart. It’s broke. I don’t want it anymore.
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Broken Heart Heart Myself
True love is letting her know that her ass really does look fat in those jeans.
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Appearance Funny Herself Love True

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