fear and sweat, flashin' gear
writin' rapz in hectic, but: yeaaah!
detached paramedics, but: yeeeah!
tizz alive, he and me, didn't die

who am i? will i be a version of me
free from dat ******* of abuse, b?
who would tell you the truth? me?
dunno, demons inside wear masks

they hide, whisper, mouth odor like gas
i'm behind, they passed by, they see,
know and feel dat i'm blind -- what is real?
and what's not? i know diz be god

"good" and "god" are like moon and sun
but if i use, then i run, will forget wise men
and it's bleeding through my eyes when
i'm unable to arise and sling like five men

codes from the land of oblivion
demons sending messages: dey fo'
da trashcan, you may be from aspen,
or a child of da bronx: good remains good

wrongs remain wrongs, stuck in-between
writing songs like cage fighters, man bites
dog, my weapon may be a pen or a glock:
if i do, use, take or abuse drugs: i'll fail

the loft, the jail, the yacht, the hate
hell ain't a snake pit but a desperate living,
shivering, lonely, no homeys, suffering
ignorant and angry, indifferent, cranky

still: a flickering, glimmering, somewhen

rock bottom, i hit it, my addict: i'm wit him
he within' me, steely and sneaky, peace
of ****, b, chasin' the thrill just to **** me
i will be dyin', will be fightin', skies brighten

no bullshittin, johnny weeks, so high,
delusional: "i'm a viking", drugs are unusual
why do i used dem as much dat i felt like
jim carrey as "truman" -- observed, being

followed; diz a good state to be in?
ya know da answer, my friend, shake
your own hand, accept ya name
leave da climate of coldness

diz requires boldness, but ya know what?
the addicted demons hate us like themselves
do not let 'em do dat
lock em in an inner shelf, wit a key

call it as you like, dear friend, i call it
"SELF-LOVE", ooooh boy: what a word,
what a term, your stomach may rage now:
fierce, furious demons being in flames

heaven yeah, let em burn, it's your turn,
put your life into god's hands, soft hands
clean yourself, wash ya hands, the
end of this poem must not be ours


**********      **

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Zoloft,
This is a love letter.
Please do not get this confused.
You & my serotonin became infused.
I love you,
But I love you not.
It's almost like my old self,
That I forgot.

You take away the pain.
Only some of it,
The rest remains.

But I love you more than you know,
You've helped me in ways that don't show.

You are the drug that I've been chasing
Coke,
Acid,
Alcohol,
Need some replacin'..

But-
I hate your manipulation,
The way you think I need you,
Everyday,
No hesitation.

You starve me.
You beat me.
Make me physically weak..

But instead of leaving you,
I take you everyday,
Every week.

Because of you,
I've stopped & smelled the roses,
Had my first smile in awhile,
Took some pictures,
Held some poses.

But yet,
I know this can't go on forever.

I'm not sure when our last kiss will be,
Sometimes I only feel you & me,
Other times I feel the urge to leave

But I'll stay with you for now,
Because I don't know better.

The only reason I'm alive,
Is because you help me survive.

I’m toxic
A little psychotic
I take zyprexa, an anti-psychotic, I don’t know if it’s working
My own fault though, I keep self medicating
I take the pills they prescribe and they help but not when my mind is racing
Speed, it’s ironic really
Because it slows me down and I am able to function
I can show affection and my emotions seep out of my bones
But it causes everyone to leave me alone
Is it my fault? Is it something misdiagnosed?
I don’t know, I only know how I feel and I use when I don’t know how to deal
Life is roaring rapids, I fall out and slowly drown from what has a hold of me
I don’t know what else to do but self medicate
Its another thing I use, a crutch
When I can’t stand by myself and don’t reach out to anyone else
I’ve lost my mind, I tell everyone I’m fine
I’m always thinking of a line whether it be drugs or a rhyme
I’m not kind on the come down and I hate my entire being when I’m rude to my mom
If I were to have a clone I’d beat the **** out of myself and tell her what’s really wrong
She makes sure I have what I need especially when I wretch my sadness all over the floor
She never shuts the door in my face when I need a place, without her I would be misplaced
One night she was shrieking and it doesn’t matter that she was drinking
The feelings were in the air, they were something tangible that I could grasp without being an ***
I saw sadness, rejection, neglect, frustration, anger although it’s a secondary emotion and that’s what she uses to mask her raw emotions
I saw hatred, not for me, but the addict inside me
She’s the only one who doesn’t call me crazy, she lays in bed with me when I feel like I’m not in control
She does breathing exercises with me when I really just want to fall
I make a lot of commotion and she still loves me as her son
I am all of the above when on drugs, my heart still hurts but I’m full on love
My family and friends have been pouring it into me and that’s the only thing keeping me going
I’ve said it once, but I’ll say it again, without the love there’s no reason to be alive.
Without the love, it’s failure to thrive.
Without the love, I won’t survive.

i have never tried drugs,
some pills that could make me intoxicated
as i was already high on happiness.
but then i realized,
self love which was the spark
behind my positivity is vanishing.
i was horrified.
it has become a drug to myself
that i couldn't imagine my soul working without it.
my passion needed more doses
of self love, and i couldn't make it anymore.
at that time, i wished—
if self love can be found in forms
of pills and drugs,
then i already would have been intoxicating.
but i never got it.
i thank myself at that time
for stoping myself as sometimes
self love isn't important as long as
you are breathing.
other than your blood, flesh and bones
anything can make you go insane.
so it's better to stay on earth
and stop doing our drugs of different obsessions.

dwelling in a bathtub full of ember
skin, transparent like a plastic raincoat
max' core is a cage, his mouth like a cave
tags are scratched into his hands

he is walking over liquid letters, since
doctors replaced his blood with milk
cats are drinking from his open wounds
max is asking the mirror:

who could i be?
who do i want to be?
what will i become?
who am i now?

his memories are windows
the head is mutating, it will explode
thoughts are gobbling thoughts
wishes **** other wishes

the young max longed to be old
the old max wants to be young
a life, hidden in a purple casket
secrets drive each of his moves

addicted to the white magic of death
self-destructive, not trustworthy
he exchanged his kids against trance
sirens are singing songs of oblivion

take him away from this journey
trapped is he in placelessness
he became the thing he dreaded
nightmares are haunting his dignity

will his actions turn into an epitaph?
a funeral, under the heaven of his skin

I want you to say my name.
I want it to spill past your lips while I run my fingers along the bend of your jaw.
I want you to grab my waist and pull me into you like the world might  take me away at any moment.
I want to feel you gasp as I slide my fingers from the nape of your neck into your soft hair.
I want to make you desperate for me in so many ways aside from physical.
I want to be the reason you shudder, sigh and surrender.
Let me be the one, let me be the thought in your head that keeps you up at night.
I want you to be the reason I am needed.