questions.

what is happiness…?
a crisp green paper or a heavy silver coin?
a shot of whiskey? A thickly rolled joint?

a long fat rail of Dominican cocaine?...
a little bit of joy inside each little grain…

is it the drugs that fucked me so nicely for so long?
Or the OD’s and blackouts that wrote all the songs?
How about the adoration that comes with being so angry…?
Until the picture caption reads ‘the bitter, the broken, the ill and me’

Eyes are closed in pain, hands open them NOW
NOW NOW NOW NOW

is it saying, “I love you” to the guy who lies to you?
he’ll turn you red and then he’ll just make you blue…
to be led on is to be shit on which is basically to be pissed on
…left crying in a pool of it for long after he’s gone.



is it the best friend who gently wakes you from a nightmare?
the shoulders to cry on should always be there…

(i remember the first ‘brother’ I’d ever had in my life
came at me from behind with a long sharp knife…
“I wish you had died in the hospital!!!” he hissed in my face.
that wasn’t happiness, that was just disgrace.)

I’m sure by now I’ve been disdainfully and tragically dismissed, deleted, erased from your mind. I’m sure everyone around town knows “how sad I am, because I’m really a sweet guy…but I’m fuckin’ nuts…”, right? Last I heard, you’d said that to a number of people…still counting….or what?
Hearing your accusations around town make me feel like making you the hot topic of conversation, more so than you’ve made me…except you wouldn’t be here to feel it like I am.
I would spare you in advance…and we would both go down in history, baby.
History fucker.


what is sanity…?

more like a semblance of happiness that’s really just a word
that made you chuckle and cringe the first time that you heard…
and the successes and rewards make you feel happy and secure?
In the end won’t make you feel naked and pure…
a façade to fool everyone and right down to yourself?
the wax falls away slowly as it drips down and melts…

you’re melting away.
And I feel happy now…