There it is...
I can feel it!
Something great
Is happening...

Better than any
Pill or shot.
It's so real; it...
Feels so hot!

What's this feeling?
Such emotion!
Senses reeling,
Such devotion!

No more guilt
Or remorse,
Or regret!

Finally,  my
Insanity
Is something
I GET.

Sociopathy.
I have no regrets.
But I still feel
Depression.

There's nothing left.
Just this
Aggression.

If I go to sleep
I wake up
And I weep.

But you disrespect,
And you'll wake
In the street.

Somehow, I get myself in these situations,
Where all of my efforts can end in stagnation,

But sometimes I manage to find inspiration,
In my concentration and intoxication,

I've had so much beer i should be in my bed,
But there's too much to think of,

It's all in my head.

There's ideas and there's music,  there's joy and there's death,
And there's realization that there's nothing left.

See tonight I got word that it's working for me,

My whole life is decided,  I know what I'll be.
I'll write and I'll speak,  I'll get high and I'll teach,

And I'll be grateful for every mind that I reach.

But I'll always remember the path I once took,
Before novels and poems and college and books,

I'll remember the streets in December,  '09,
When I hustled for China and needles and wine,
When I first learned this world had two sides to its face,

There's the side that you see, then there's one other place.

And it's dark and it's *****,  but sometimes,  it's kind.
It can give you that shelter you've been trying to find.

But now after living in both of these worlds,
It honestly hurts me to have to decide.

Because one path will lead to respect in their eyes,
And the other will grant me that sweet peace of mind...

It's Saturday night,
There's people out dancing.
There's people out drinking,
But here I am sitting
At home all alone.

Is that even right?
I mean,  what am I thinking,
Just sitting here and shrinking,
Not taking my eyes off
The screen of my phone?

My friends haven't called me,
To drag me to parties,  
Or some crazy dive bar,
With two dollar drinks.

It's these kinds of weekends
That make me feel sorry:
I guess I'm just too gone
To party with, me.

But sometimes I hear it,
A knock at my window,
And i know that they
haven't forgotten me.

My circle is precious,
So few and so little,
But my friends are all
I've got,  you see.

So when they bring me
Gifts of whiskey,
Beer and the joy of
Conversation,

I'm always the one to
Respond in kind
And usually with
Much stronger libations.

No, I've never felt
Such calm and such peace,
As when I have walked
These crowded streets.

With nods and smiles,
They call out to me,
To offer me greetings,
Or something to eat,

"Do you need a smoke, sir? "
"Hey,  I've got some ****, "
"It's always good to see you
Here,  Mr. C."

I just smile and I nod,
And say nothing at all,
I just give them a wave,
And remind them to call.

The dealers,  the junkies,
The sets and police,
They all know my name,
On the cracked Houston streets.

I know it's respect that
They're showing to me,
For all that I've done as
Who I used to be.

The scars on my knuckles
Still have yet to fade,
I carry my violence
And two deadly blades.

And those who once knew me,
As I was before,
They bow and they nod,
And they offer me more.

I woke up this morning,
My body so cold,
Not even blankets
Could warm me.

But I had to rise,  and
Somehow I know,
A day of sadness
Is upon me...

To think of my life
At seven A.M.,
Emotions so endless,
I don't think I can,

I've lived my whole life
With invisible bars,
My cage is my own,
My rage is the cause.

My one only secret
Is doubt and depression,
Twin shadows who
Follow at my heels.

But I still feel lucky,
Since I have my friends,
And they understand
How it feels.

As I swallow my coffee,
And breakfast of pills,
The weariness
starts to fade.

And now I am ready,
For frustration and ills,
As I don my black leather,
And pocket those pills

No matter what happens,
I'll be there,  and chill,
For life is a river,
Which flows where it will...