Can't sleep. Wakeful for days. The pain starts.
Thought I could beat it. Thought again, wrong as ever.
The consequences take form shortly after my mistakes.
Already too far behind me. Already flown through.
My frantic fingers tremble, trying to close.
Reliable depression.

Shuffle. Shuffle my feet. Long dark streets.
Pit stops in bars for drinks in smoke. Cigarettes. Cigars.
Like I'd ever find love tucked in such slow dives.
If stimulants may save me, I'll smoke some more ****.
Against the outside building, heart open.
I hear your quiet words.

Over the traffic. Over the clubs. Their lines.
For once I follow the feeling. Not shy away.
The music singing from hidden lips.
I must see them.