I'm watching my friends follow the paths of their brothers
Chain smoking pill poppers looking for love from their mothers
But instead they find it in the
Prize from their dealer
Until everything around them is nothing but a third-wheeler
And all genuine emotion is replaced with this hunger
It's days like these when I wish we were all still younger
Before I ever even considered I might watch my friends become users
When getting high was just smoking, not meeting up with random prescription drug abusers
Im watching the best people I know
use this drug as their foundation
And when it all crumbles, I hope that they have an inner realization
That they were once people others looked up to and respected,
But now they've become shadows of everything they've injected.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 9:40 AM UTC
Light creeps in through fogged glass
To a room full of smoking enthusiasts
Dinner is served on a paper plate
In a failed attempt to rehabilitate
Red wine stains your mothers blouse
Inconsequential in this small house
Dust settles into carpets worn by time
Like the family, never to leave Anaheim
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 2:12 PM UTC
I am naught but a twig
In the mouth of a pit bull
Clenched between wet jowls
Doom, impending.
I tried it my way,
took my own chances
Bloodied my fingers
and my lungs.
Smoked and drank
more then I ate
and I ate a lot.
Now I drink from a different bottle
This one filled with
soothing emptiness,
In peach-colored capsules.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 5:33 PM UTC
I sit in the same chair, everyday
picking at my toe nails,
smoking cigarettes and ****
keeping an eye on the trees
and the vines creeping up my fence.
I watch the rain slide down the window,
to settle in the sweet mud.
I step outside, feel the wetness between my toes
and know that these simple impressions
are lasting, are forever.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
his road goes for miles and miles
with no signs and no lights
its too dark to know
if hes been here before.
he's made better moves.
even with the slowing of his feet
his thoughts are immediate.
he packs up the feelings
that hes brought
not one excuse to prove
and continues on his road
beginning his ascent
on a road with no exits
Apr 10, 2013
Apr 10, 2013 at 2:55 AM UTC
Lofty aspirations
built on crumbling foundations
caused by faulty medications
filled with combinations
of complications
and expectations
from other generations
and fluctuations
of explanations
ignoring the implications
and frustrations
hallucinations and
interpretations
and the misrepresentations
of the ramifications
of your demonstrations
just to feel the sensations
the vibrations
of knowing you have no limitations
life is vacations
mixed with contemplations
of temptations
and on occasion
imagination
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 4:53 AM UTC
I've tried killing my leeches
the things that **** me speechless
but I can't throw that first stone
because through my mind they comb
Images of my father, when he left us
in his ****** attempt to repossess
a piece of his youth
to calm the anger the pills couldn't soothe
from his failed attempts at parenting
(a trait I hope I'm not inheriting)
I don't blame him, one hundred percent;
my mother had an iron facade of content
for years, secretly crying from the torment
suffering with the life that she never dreamt,
she started her spiral, her descent,
but I never knew to what extent
until the night he breached her trust
with fraudulent intent
It's a bridge that has burned
which every mistake he's confirmed
brought down the supports
but set me onto the right course
To be someone different
compassionate, considerate
and most of all deliberate.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
a mother got on the bus
with her little boy
his hand wrapped completely in hers
they took their seats
by the window
he pressed his head
against the glass
and he looked out
at the passing cars
the people
the trees and lights
blurs
colors and noises
a cacophony of life
he saw it all
and smiled
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
some people were made
to do great things
a wife, children,
a 401k and
a built in pool
and some people were made for
drinking, ******
***** jeans and
Chef Boyardee
to be happy
you just have to
realize that
not everyone
will live that
seemingly perfect life
some lives are made for
nothing more than
being wasted
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
skin covers
my bones
my organs
maybe my soul
maybe my mind
it covers me
yet it is always
searching
for more skin
skin to
touch
rub
feel
always searching
always finding
maybe never
the right skin
but
it finds something
someone
and then
if you're lucky
your skin
and their skin
become one
somewhere.
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 3:47 AM UTC