My interests
began to fail
me as my
darkness
moved in for
the ****.

I blamed it
all on the
crescent Moon.
The bad
head case
of the
blues I
had been
Harboring
all dam year.

Then settled
on the fact
that it was
just another
washed out
wednesday
night.

Frusciante
once again
amazed
me as he
summoned the
Gods with
his guitar
and
sang to me
through
the magic
of the
radio.

My curiosity
began to
return as
the
comical
thoughts of
suicide
took to
their roost
inside
my head.

There they
always
await like
vultures atop
a San Pedro Cactus.

Patiently waiting
for the
next time
my mind
goes weak.