I will remember the kisses 

our lips raw with love

and how you gave me

everything you had

and how I, 

offered you what was left of

me, 

and I will remember your small room

the feel of you

the light in the window

your records

your books

our morning coffee

our noons our nights

our bodies spilled together

sleeping

the finy flowing currents

immediate and forever

you leg my leg

your arm my arm

you smile and the warmth

of you

who made me laugh

again.

Charles Bukowski, Raw With Love

sleep through the static

Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning 

and you think, I'm not going to make it, 

but you laugh inside- remember all the times you've felt that way.

Charles Bukowski

(image and how-to by Globetrotter Diaries here)

I have the feeling that drinking is a form of suicide 

where you are allowed to return to life 

and begin all over the next day. 

It's like killing yourself, and then you're reborn.

Charles Bukowski