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drugs

Barely a Kid

Been a while since the pen on paper made me smile
Until now, I’ve been a faker, couldn’t take it
Thoughts runnin’ wild, but I’ve been tired
Don’t get mistaken
Used to write a quarter mile, then the isle broke
That mild smoke left leaving change to cope
Rearranged the hope, a strange cloud to float
Lingering stench, couldn’t find a wrench to fix the mess
The kiss of death dismissed my breath
Gasping, no longer raspy, just gaps be that mask me
Hiding the face beneath
Sheathed the sharp tongue with which I speak
Write obscene, to run…

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Strange Place

Jack loves the drugs. The drugs love Jack. But Romeo and Juliet don’t belong together.

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As if something is missing words echo existing madness. They’re always persisting. Lost self with bad habits. Identity ravaged by guilt which has managed to linger and damage the hopes meant to manage the goals I’ve established. The wind blows with a whisper. Crisp hands filled with blisters bleed black ink, sinister. Fear to blink for the monsters sing from the darkness. Ringing shrieks last the longest. Haunting freaks from the back of the mind, begging me to head for the shadows each time. Like felines ask to be pet and loved with hidden agendas to capture and mug. Iron bars, no free will. Screaming from inside of glass jars. Not a peep, air is still. To a crisis I speak, my intentions are weak, suicide is too bleak, but I shiver. Floor boards creak as the demons stalk me. I always escape. Is running my fate? Surviving is great, but what will it take to live? To choose what I give? To stand along with things I love and insist I’m not caught by the whiff of a flame? A rose by any other name. Why can’t I admire without sacrificing my brain? Am I…

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High Horse

Staying clean is easy if your mind is powerful enough to fend off the crave for vices. It’s simply odd feeling. Once you’ve adjusted to some form of reality, any alteration is the new high. Having been stoned for so long rocked, but I didn’t expect such a splash once I settled on the other side. I feel high being over it. Ironically, I stopped standing for shit. Living life dirty just to wash it off eventually. And then I look back and wonder, what was the point of the ride if I don’t enjoy long trips. Claiming to go on a journey and finding myself in the same place. Kept thinking there was no way out. But I won’t give in. It’s time to get high off of being sober. I keep getting older and I don’t want me life to end before the story begins. Too much to do, not enough time to spend.

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Relapse In Reverse

Poison filled syringe poised just a tinge
Boy still unhinged with the joy to binge
Sober hell, it’s all well stoner
Loner in a cell hidden to drown the noise
Pesky voice, broken record making choices
Fuckin’ heckler making jokes
Drowsy summer, stumble and fall ‘till October
Recall deployed smoke, an attack to destroy hope
Unable to react, moving too slow
Won’t go back…

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Throwing Stones

Some of us struggle more than others in facing our demons.
Jack tells of how he faces his own.
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The Glass is foggy. House is half full. Can’t type ‘cause I’m a little groggy. Need it at night so I drool. Not sure whether lying or right. Caught in the pipe. Dream above the clouds. Asleep to escape the night. Bare and weak I see myself. Bleak, a life, hell, shrieks. Got health. Quite wealthy. Still can’t stand my fucking self
So I bury myself, before I die and just wait out the time. Fade out the lines
Color the pages. No one else can see. But, it is what it is. So it’ll be
Rainbows sparked in flames hope to erase the shame. No. They change only the same flow 

”Don’t fool yourself, foolish self. This hell is your prison cell.
Intoxicated, you ain’t well
This isn’t what you wanted is it?
You brought it. Miss it? Listen
You had it. Dissed it. Dip-ship
Put this outfit on. Cluck like a chicken ‘till you get whats going on
Take these feathers if they’re…

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Hiding Time

Self-reflective, Jack discusses his fears and motivations for being creative. Leaving a mark.

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I wear a mask to go hard
And I take the lie pretty far
Fake like I’m born with these scars
I don’t bruise, I’m from mars
Way high up in the stars
With red eyes locked like darts
Just ’cause I’m smarter when I gab
That’s why I overstand to rap and spit
Can barely stand hands frosty grip
Around my throat
The grip won’t slip
Hope I don’t choke
I’m rolling throwing blame at frozen shame
Stone cells, prison brain
Shattered the glass house
The crash was mad loud
I’m assed out
No second chance will pass down
Claim sober to be left alone
It’s over
Getting closer for…

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One Ounce

...Wifey’s birthday. Can’t forget to turn up

Mollies, like real adults

Get paid. Five baby daddies

Drive up to welfare in a shiny Benz

At work all day. The mean streets

The crew runs too deep for fear

“We’re men,” we say

Go hard for the homies. Stay hard for the homies. But no homo

Own name tattoo across chest. Thug credentials

Or Identification In-Case-Of-Shit

Long white Ts, Like a Ghost...

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