Some people mean well but when they ask you the question
are they really prepared for the answer?

How am I?  Well let me tell you.
Life is lived daily by the frayed edges of well worn rope.
My stale cigarette is just one inhale away from burning my flesh.
Lovers?  I'm one **** away from a grand STD because I don't care
enough to love anymore.  Just into the harsh slip and slide offered
in the back of the sticky floored bar.  It's filled with people like me here.
We don't talk, we stare, we smoke, the burn of the poison going down
strokes a fire that makes us feel alive.

They want me to change.  Change is was what brought me here.
Ironic isn't it?  Massive waves of stench roll over my light filled
soul trying to dim.  That, they can never have.  No matter how far
I've gone into the dark night of the soul...no one gets my flame.

A poison push just another shot then we simply say are goodbyes .
Can we even see beyond the miles now we walked through hell and just as many walk through that door.

Is it malice we take are bitterness sharing with every one night stand .
Junkies are all the same with far better titles

Alleys of emptiness and rooms cast in shadow will the night corrupt us all turning the meek into rats .

Afraid we no longer recognize are reflection hidden in coffins and that early graves promise .

Can you take me with my burden or simply say ******* goodbye?

We all fall down sometimes and others simply prefer to crash and burn.
One more round turns to seven more years the trap was set and you simply put your hand within the fire .

We are all over-sized children playing a fatal game~