looming in a malodorous mind dwelling thought, loose bleeding faces;
convulsing image, clutching hearts, he cut the cord of sanity, I
drink to you, my loss, gone away, still tenacious memory, the remains
of a dead friend's essence.
smiles could be bottled up and sold with a fancy label, if only
death was like a smile.
out his expression was like trying to peel my skin off, not impossible,
have gone to your funeral, I should have done this, and could have
said that, but I'll remember your laughter, and the sizzling times
of euphoria we shed together, a part of ourselves, I moved on, as
did you, in another fashion, a new dimension.
you were here, some day I'll be there. Driving through that crappy
ghetto ridden part of town, with skinny pregnant women, flashing
leg, with us both fiending like middle class rich boys gone wrong,
with a wallet full of bills, and a street corner of bugged out eyeballs.
kid we talked about, tugging on his addicted Mom's shirt. "I'm
We wanted to quit after that, probably should have.
the Fixation of our only escape, playing that perilous game, we
never knew how dangerous, but it's hard for me to think of you in
those last moments, they say an impending feeling of doom, when
the heart flips out, I could only imagine the fear, the panic, the
to now fixate on the virtuous times, yet the blues sometimes consumes
me, you always did do too much, it's incredible you made it this
long I suppose, it's like the time I said, "I could never get
enough," those thoughts haunt me, cause I never had enough
to be in your shoes.
many things left unsaid, I don't even have a picture of you, except
for the one implanted in my brain, the one that will never fade
or get lost, the one that wakes me up from dreams.
first time we met: "You
like to smoke this Boo yaa," your eyes grinning.
I knew the answer.
Twin like addictions
In deed in deed
In death, in life
I rest alone
As did you
lectures on how bad the stuff was, is, and shall ever be, wish you
listened to yourself.
helping me when I thought I was overdosing, and I almost wish I
was there to save you, but one can never save one who's bent on
self destruction. Least you finally quit, guess you had no choice,
since you're no longer breathing.
that I think
Of what you said
It's like you knew
I'd like to take back
The hurtful things
But the clock
With your last
time your car broke down on our way home from scoring, we walked
20 miles, it was freezing outside, and we found an open scary bar
before having hypothermia, "Louie's Pub" as the locals
sneered at us, and you won their depression with your wit, after
fixing in the bathroom.
the time we got so high we thought there was someone in the basement
creeping around. I took my baseball bat, as we went down to see
the cat litter smelling empty paranoia of our own craziness.
pay you back when I get my tax returns," you said.
worry about it, I just enjoy your company, wish we could sample
this moment infinitely."
knew you for a good year, but it was like we were childhood friends,
or were destined to meet, both at 28.
felt like they always should have.
ventricular paced voices wishing we had more.
bent eyes, bent style, bending around me.
drawn out boisterously entertaining jokes you could tell at the
drop of a hat, to make me come up, from coming down, you had the
brilliant persona-fed illusion of a total original character--egocentric
artist, making something from nothing.
had that special walk, that cool guy talk, like an aura-filled cabalistic
gloom about you.
bastard. I loved you like the brother I never had.
time you stayed up all night reading my dirty comic books, and you
slept all day, losing your job for never showing up.
images, I spit on this, that I write, it's been brewing, it has
to come out, to leave a bewildered stain for the unfortunate onlookers.
distortion, you hit those drums like a man with a mission, with
true energy-fed aggression. Junkies tried to pawn your car and drum
set when you left; reality can really piss me off.
thought you might like to know. Your parents hired private detectives
to find the culprits, the dealers, they couldn't understand you
wrote your own death certificate. No one likes to be blamed.
could see what others could not, feel what each other thought, push
the buttons that spew with rot.
showing up on my door step saying, "Guess
what I got?"
come in, come in," chuckles.
is a part of life, most people don't like to deal with it, or think
about it, but if you accept it, you'll live a fuller life,"
you told me that night, as we discussed every topic we could blabber
good to get this out in tiny doses, but only in miniature taste
tests, as we both ate like kings, overloading on the expensive cheese.
the time machine my friend?
move on, somehow, tears only cause wanting, when wanting is never
enough, as you know, it's just never enough. It's not a pretty place,
but it's gone for now.
for the warning of my life, old pal. When will it end my friend?