Degenerate

Some days
I feel like
Crawling
Into my darkened
Dampened earth.

I feel like
Giving up
Because nothing
Seems worth
Fighting for
Anymore.

Would you
Miss me
If I chose now
To say
Goodbye?

Would they
Stare then
At the marker
Adorned with my name?

Say they
Are sorry
To see me go?

Tears run
From wretched eyes
Mourning a woman
They only thought
They knew?

I would laugh
Then
Prowling the edges
Watching my lifeless body
Absorb
Their tears.

My eyes flicker
To the clock
On the mantle.
Time for my
Date with
Jack and Jim.

Needle
And rusty spoon
In my hand.

Trails of white
Powder
Dance about
My fall.

One
Two
Three.

If I braked
Now
Would you even
Care to
Notice?

Lethargy

crouching bottles
hidden shards
dancing lions
in the dark.

liquor dreams
furnace flesh.

Skive

a silver twist
slash across
the wrist

weeping blood
curled fist
lacerate flesh

abandon to
 mist.

Pipeline

So here's a teaser from the story that I'm currently writing:

Pipeline

The valuim crunched underneath the weight of the clear, plastic CD case. A TD Banknorth debit card slid the crude piles of powder to two opposite sides. Next, it divided the first into four separate lines. They were glorious. A tightly rolled dollar bill served as the pipeline into the nostril. One line down, then the second. The cd case was passed into twin hands as the third and the fourth line were sucked into the pipeline.

Laughter filled the car as shaking hands battled to straighten the next round. This time the lines were split in two, thicker, stronger. Stray flecks hovered the air as white powder first met green paper, than the smooth insides of peach flesh.

Mucus powders began their acid slide down the back of raw, hungry throats.

strain

a line of vic
a line of val
a line of yayo
equanimites the heat
of rock n' roll.

cartoon faces
blurring lines
i smash the mirror
for the last fucking time.