Slumped over again,
bad posture.
Running a fingertip around
the edge of a
highball glass.
Lost track of how
many times life has led
to this.

Drinking but far
from drunk.
Using and still
not high.
Alone and still
crowded by the
memories.

Took in all
of the empty through
bloodshot eyes
that hadn't been a
healthy white in
far too long.

Thinking,
lost so much.
Tried everything to
**** it all away.

Stabbed myself and
missed again.
Look forward to
the next fix,
need something.

No Longer worried
about the could
have beens.
Dance along like
a dollar girl
with all that has
been given.

Alone,better this
way.
Listen to the sound
of the refrigerator hum.
Call this music,
Frusciante.

Just me and the sound
of the ceiling fan whipping.

Passed out and
called it sleep.
I don't dream anymore,
the dreams gave
up on me
long ago.

Tossed and turned,
reached out and felt
no one there.
Laughed it off
then paced the room.
Went to the window
and peeked out at
the sacred night.

Back to the bottle and
filled the empty glass.
I began all of this alone.

The crowds demand
conversation.
The stammer robs
me of that.

Sat and drank,
sat and used.

I dont need the crowds.
I got Demons to keep
me company.

"We'll" I said before slowly hitting the burning joint I held clenched between my scared and calloused finger tips.
"I my dear am a friend of the cold",I exhaled and enveloped her heart shaped face within the cloud.
Her eyes squinted against the smoke but never left my face.
"You can call me akin to the empty.A first cousin to the cold and
uncomfortable wetness."
I ran my wrist under my runny nose and smiled.
I scratched the stubble along my chin and smiled.
The dope was always good at this time of year,I was high and the wind was warm.
Almost as warm as the opiated blood that raced throughout my tired pain free body.
She stared at me and waited on a word,a line of some false greatness to fog her mind a little more.
She blinked once and only once and with that movement in time I felt a little bad about who I was and why I was here.
I quickly recovered as I always have and filled her line of sight with a forced smile and a lazy eye brow raise.
"But be that as I may be,I am indeed in love with the warmth."
I said to her and watched her o shaped lips break into a smile.
"I like the warmth too "she said, her grey eyes now filled with hope.
"I know you do darling",I said then reached my hand out and rested it on her bony shoulder.
I managed to bring forth another smile from a place deep beneath all of what I used to be,and when I did she smiled with me.But in this version of reality she was truly smiling alone as I stood and wore the deep lines of falseness across my face.
"I know you do sweetheart",I said again attempting to sound like some type of sick caring father
"I know you do ....."

To have
watched
him die
a
painful,
blood letting
death
would have
been far better
than
witnessing his
slow,sad
demise
through
that one way
entrance
and
into the
realm of
insanity.

There has been
moments and
sometimes
even years when
I've submitted
myself to
them.

Celebrated false
joys with
them,
spent and consumed
with them.
Turned a blind eye
and focused
on nothing
with them.

I found their ways
grueling and murderous,
they killed the soul
first while
seizing the mind
with pointless
goals.

I tried talking
to some of
them
but found it as
uncomfortable
as conversing
with a
cop on a Sunday.

Accepted it for
what it was.
Embraced what
it is I
truly am.

Unlike them,
against them
and inherently
on my
own.

The only true
joy lays within
the ***** and the
Poppy.
The softness
of the women's
painted
lips.
The discovery of
words
of prose written
by a long
dead drunk.

The sound of
recorded music
by Frusciante
and the
times alone
when the pencil
meets the paper
and all of
whatever
this is
comes to be..

It was the
warmth
I felt at
the sound
of her voice
that assured
me it had
returned.
The way she
stared directly
into my eyes as I
spoke.
The way
she waited
patiently
while I
struggled
with the
stammer.

I placed
the times
with her deep
within the
caverns of
my memory.
In the
bright
place where
all of the
good times
are kept.

I did what
was right
before I had
a chance to
let her
down or
to hurt her in
the way only
I knew
how to
do.

I loved her
for a week
then let
her go.
It was the
only right
thing
to
do.