my mood floats on unseen currents.
time passes like nothing and everything simultaneously.
world crashes around me: i crash around myself.
the whiskey in my blood smiles for me
-so i don't have to put so much effort toward pretending.
preoccupied with mortality the last few
wake up in panic
tell myself i'm going to quit.
tell myself i should start again.
sit here and sweat in the heat. already too much for me.
finish a faulkner book and jump right into mccarthy.
i am the devil.
lost something somewhere.
but there's nothing to be found.
just an empty box and a life gone sour.
pull smoke into my injured lungs.
try to pull her close to me
:and fail:
so i retreat into my self-ness
and hide the agony behind the sheen of exhaustion
curse myself for being so good sometimes
when everything else has gone so bad.
--well his heart aint made of nothin but piss and vinegar
--and his boots have traveled more than you have known.
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2 comments:
I miss your ugly face. Haven't seen you in a while. Hope to be at your next show.
It's been a while since you wrote anything here. Sometimes it's good to just get it out. Even at the risk of being an ass. (Referring to myself there. Again.)
It was good to see you. It was a good show. Even if Mikey did almost make you forget what you were doing. :)
You may be the devil, but we love you anyway. Don't forget that part.
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