Walking through December w/ a bottle in my pocket
Reachin in to pull it out but I pulled out a locket
I flipped @ cracked the glass staring @ your face
I flipped & tilted back & felt the whisky chase
�
Corrosion�s eating @ me & it�s a warm winter rain
on a blue black gray December night
I walk towards a lamp post light
the feeling I start to fight
to fight
to fight
and I don�t quite believe it
�
Last week ended ten months / 308 days of salting my tongue
not the longest stretch I've ever had.
ten months of not drinking is worse than four days of
when that drink fills a spot
here (he points to his throat) & another here (he points to his chest)
the hole in my chest is growing
the shake in my hands is showing
& even rats will run themselves to death
& I�m Sitting through December w/ a bottle in my pocket
�
When I drink I�ve been able to have one or two & the holes half filled
but if I have two three's a possibility
after 3, I keep going until I'm mixing water milk & the last of the vodka I found in the back of a drawer,
and the spot I've been trying to top off has expanded to fill my chest.
One is never enough 100 is never enough
there are days I don�t want to live
I wanna die
& I don�t know where to turn to fill the void I've eaten in my chest
& if I could just cut out
I wouldn't deal w/ it anymore
yeah, it's depression
mania
obsession to obsession
substance to abundance
& a rat will run itself to death rather than eat if it's given a drink for running
& there�s a hole I want to fill
I have gone from sports to booze to spending to pot to smoking to poetry to where I am now.
& now
the holes growing larger
the ache
stronger
& I don't know what to fill it w/
because poetry isn�t a cure for my problems
but sometimes it helps
�
the hole in my chest is growing
the shake in my hands is showing
& even rats will run themselves to death
& I�m sitting through December w/ a bottle in my pocket
& Once I drank for so long the first two beers burned my throat
alcohol burning through
until I was numbed by the third
once the sixth started to burn I stopped
and ran up 10,000 in credit card debt
it's hard to buy drugs on credit so I switched to pot.
Sitting at home eating junk food is cheaper than almost everything at the mall
& when you're stoned, nothing really matters
so I stopped the ganja kick & replaced herb w/ camels
filterless to regulars to lights to 1/2 pack a day
& four days ago I went on a bender & what the fuck, nothing was really wrong.
NO REASON. WHY?
nothing I don't normally deal w/
the hole in my chest...
the shake in my hands...
even rats will...
...through December
through a warm winter rain
on a blue gray December...
sitting beneath the lamp post...
�
In my adult life I have been attaching my self to two kinds of people
those who help & those who make me feel better
A psychological thought is that people in a bad state will seek out those who are worse off to make looking in the mirror easier.
It�s easier to deny what you see when the guy behind you worse off
& Two years ago, my best friend was some guy I can't remember
a drug dealer an alcoholic, pot smoking girlfriendless looser. He didn't smoke cigarettes, but he smoked everything else & he made me feel good.
when you're down
looking in the mirror is easier when you're the people in the background are in worse shape than you.
Those who help have usually been people I grew to resent.
A girlfriend who forbid me to see my facilitator friends.
Those who gave me an excuse to drink to smoke to die,
Michelle ruled me w/ an iron fist.
I stopped going out, I stopped drinking, three years w/ only minor binges & that was something
not even one car accident
no DUI's & I didn't die like four other of my friends & I should have
been grateful then
I am now
but I don�t have friends like either of them now
that doesn�t work now
I listen to myself &
the hole in my chest is growing
the shake showing
& even rats...
�
After Sally I smoked myself into an eight month stupor
Last Month Dave took me for a walk.
I said I didn't feel good.
Actually I didn't feel like being sober
Walking in the cold air, I said I wanted a drink. I wanted a drink
I needed a drink
a drink!
a drink!!
I need a fucking drink!!!
w/ a bottle in my pocket
on a blue black gray December night
I walk...
& the feeling I start to fight
to fight
to fight
and I don�t quite believe it...
�
the hole in my chest is growing
the shake in my hands is showing
& I need to fight
need to fight
need to FIGHT IT OFF
& every time I try to fill
fill it up
fill it in
take this hole & fill it in
it�s growing
growing
It�s growing
I start knowing
I have a problem.
I have a problem!
I have a problem
�
as I�m sitting beneath the lamp post light
on a blue black gray December night
Walking through December w/ a bottle in my pocket
Reachin in to pull it out but I pulled out a locket
I flipped @ cracked the glass staring @ your face
I flipped & tilted back & felt a damn disgrace
