As you walk.

I'm typing this in the breath of a mental breakdown.
It's been exactly one year since I stopped taking my medication.
And became my own doctor.

I'm so tired.
Can't sleep.

There are no more white horses, or ladies waiting by my door.

I'm no lucky man.

I'm bent.
I'm bent.

We skipped the light fandango
Turned cartwheels 'cross the floor.

I'm feeling dopesick.

I want to be clean, but I can't function without it; too much god damned pain.

People are too busy, too busy to bother.

I love you.
I want you to know
I won't stop you.

I'm not going to live forever.

Say no.

Turn me away.

I don't want to hurt anymore.

Goddamned the future.

Dripping out of my cock, I realized.
I should not be here.
I had a week of vegan cuisine, I lost weight, drank beer, I was part of a family.

Although they grow.

I shrink back into my nut sack.
It's 12:47 am, I'm bored, and beaten, and I miss them.
I miss the madness, and the boring hours I spent beating my head off a wall in my cosmik sister's closet.
I miss threatening people with hammers, and being scolded.
It's almost love.
But I'm not there.

I came home to frozen faces, people people people.
My cat pissed all over my room, and now he cleans himself on my guitar bag.

This year in the Two thousand nines.
I realized, love is just water.
Friends will stab you in the front, if they can't get you in your back first.

Salt in my wounds.

Does anyone read this?

I was diagnosed with an ailment, that could have been cured, or fixed if I was given the proper medical attention three years ago.

Now I drop weight.

I ache, and cry, and bleed.

My stomach has cancer.
My back has arthritis.

I am losing my goddamned mind.