I felt my heart
slowing,
the hollow
in the chest
grew into
a hole.

I took another
a pill
and then
another just to
chase the
three others
I had taken
only  moments
before.

Again my
thoughts
turned to
all of the
pills I had
eaten.

I counted
my servings
by the
twos and threes.

And yet
somehow I was
still alive.

Suffering and sweating,
while openly
negotiating
with the voices
in my head.

Pills aren't
always meant
to cure.

Most are here to
help you cope
and some can
even provide
a hopeless fool
with foolish  hope.

They're prescribed
by physicians
who'll never
really care.

They'll keep you
breathing
long enough to
medicate
your mind
to pieces.

They should
be called
Magicians for
their ability to
turn your temporary
worries and
momentary
need we all come
across
into a sickness.

It all looks
much better
for you and
more importantly
for them,
on paper.

Step out of the rain,
with a heavy cotton coat
still as dry as the dead fallen
leaves in October.

Come back from the fold,
back into this heavy
falling rain while still
as dry as the Cedar bark
that lights your cast iron
ovens flames.

Follow the other path,
let the spaces between guide
you through the rain.

Show the believers,
prove to the believers
that there are other
places than these.

Places without rain,
places within the
hard falling
rain.

They use your fears
like I used
the ******,the Whisky
and the times alone.

The less you care the
less there is to fear.

The more I used
the less I thought,
the better I slept,
the more I lost.

I was too far gone to
properly mourn
Winehouse.

And I was too angry and
aware to fall for
that foolish promise
of change and hope.

They took the S away
from the
Gods and left you
with only
one alternative.

They pray to Serpents
and you call them saviors.
I wear tattooed images
that prove my awareness.

Add an S to your
laughter and I'll present
you with the Slaughter.

I'm free of the Dragon
and more aware
than ever.

It's the arrangement we
are all apart of but so few
really know.

The pillars need to
crumble for us
to start anew.

I'll be the first to light
the fire take my
place within
the flames.

Whisper sincere goodbyes
to cherished friends
and vengeful enemies.

Then curse the
wicked Watchers
as they stare and
watch us burn.

Some began to panic at the sound
of the slide of the lock.

Others began to complain of the cold
while I quietly wiped the dust away
with a few flips of tissue.

Now is the time when insight
becomes important.
Innovation and clarity take
hold,
for the evil men have left
you alone in a place devoid
of all things good to the senses.

The first man breaks as the
rude fluorescent lights become
dim flickering beams of hope.

Another moans as his body aches
for the Poppies blood ,
while a mad man screams terrors
at the demons in his head.

I found liberation in the
loneliness,
comfort in the cold.

And time enough to
mourn openly,
time enough to allow the tears
to fall where they may.

All within this place that's
not meant for emotions.