Just another night in the house with no ceiling,
staring up as I lay on my bed.
I look at the body next to me and there is no feeling.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m really dead.

Like a dragon he exhales and his poison floats.
He turns, gazes into my eyes.
He tells me “You’re beautiful. Pass me my coat.
In the front pocket there’s a surprise.”

Somehow my numb legs manage to move me
and I glide by the mess on the floor.
living in filth like this just doesn’t bother me,
because I’m not really alive any more.

As I arrive at my destination,
and throw back the thing he desires,
his slow movements fill me with massive frustration,
as my short patience already tires.

I already know what he’s got in store,
I can tell by the look on his face,
I want it, I need it, I’ve got to have more,
to get to my happiest place,


with a smile already creeping as he pulls out the bag,
on his torso he draws me a line,
he hands me the cigarette and I take a drag,
and I’m ready, so soon I’ll be fine.

My nose strokes the skin on his body, dark and strong,
and my nostrils feel the tingle they crave,
he smells clean and fresh, like he doesn’t belong,
in this cold, dark, emotionless cave.

Eyes flutter,
Hearts pound,
Beds bouncing,
Naughty sounds,
Voices laughing,
Music blaring,
Faces smiling,
Just not caring,
Lots of sighing,
Happy ending,
(for one at least)
One’s just pretending,

Music fading…Bodies tired,
Pulses fading…No longer wired,
Smile fading…Wearing off,
The meter is empty. Nothing left in the trough.
In place of the high there comes the regret,
The ‘Why do I do this?’ and getting upset,
The lack of attraction but the need to be attractive,
That keeps the life in this bedroom so active,
The pain disappears and I feel alive,
With a line or a pill, or two, three, four, five,
And the cycle begins again when I feel like I’m low,
I just lie back, close my eyes and roll in the snow.

Just another night in the house with no ceiling,
staring up as I lay on my bed.
I look at the body next to me and there is no feeling.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m really dead.

I was strolling one day with my head in the air,
On a string it did float as it brushed the clouds there,

With the mind up so high and the feet down so low,
The body does never know which way to go,

And so the pavement I followed as I looked to the sky,
And noticed nothing of the things that went by,

Just the violent breeze that did ruffle my hair,
And the puffs of white clouds that were ever so fair,

Out of my skin did my bones nearly jolt,
When a touch on my arm did make my feet halt,

And with the string of my head passing hand from hand,
Did a strange pair of arms bring my head back to land,

When my eyes came to focus, what I did see,
Was a tall, hooded figure standing opposite me,

“Come to my cat-house.” The creature did say,
And for some unknown reason I couldn’t help but obey,

We walked for some time, through the winding roads long,
I had a strange feeling, and that feeling was strong,

Familiar was I with this stranger right here,
A familiar stranger is something quite queer,

We came to a house which was ten stories high,
Said the stranger, “Come in. Come on, give it a try.”

So I followed the footsteps of my strange, hooded guide,
And with deep breaths and nervous I stepped right inside,

Nothing would prepare me for what I did see,
A pair of big, round eyes staring at me,

There stood the figure, yes, the figure did stand,
About two feet from me with a cat in one hand,

“Now, will you stroke it?” Said the mysterious one,
It told me to do it, that it would be such fun,

I told the strange figure I would not condone,
“I have my own cat, and I stroke it at home.”

It said “Bring it to me, I’ll give it a fuss.
Here kitty kitty, here **** **** ****!”

This made me uneasy, it caused me alarm,
I tried to make off but was caught by an arm,

“Stay with me, darling.” It whispered in my ear,
I quivered in fright, oh, I quivered in fear,

I told this mad stranger that I would not obey,
It asked me, “Why not? Why don’t you want to play?”

“Is there something wrong? Don’t you like cats?”
“Oh no” Replied I “The problem’s not that.”

“The thing is, I love cats. I honestly do!
The problem’s not that. The problem is you.”

With that the stranger’s eyes did open so wide,
I was I might trip and fall right inside!

So with my legs did I run and I did not stop
until I got through my front door with a skip and a hop.

And I locked every lock and I chained every chain,
And I prayed I would never meet this stranger again.

So if you’re ever out walking with your head in the clouds,
Be careful who’s watching, who’s creeping around,

Because next time, it might not just be a cat,
It could be a dog, and you can’t escape that!