(and i feel so much depends on the
weather – stp)
holding
on to all that’s gone i’m walking late at night
its
3 a.m. i’m drinking gin descending to new heights
i’m
down and out but mostly down dancing with depression
don’t
want to talk cause you’ll just chalk, school me on life’s lessons
companionship
would sure be nice but who would hang with me
west
coast walker, midnight’s stalker, bathed in poetry
a
pen and notepad in my hands i write what i just spoke
‘take
a toke and choke on smoke until you’re broke you laugh less joke’
i
think i wrote that years ago when i was twenty-five
or
maybe i was twenty-four and fuck i’m still alive
depressed
back then and now again, one cannot recover
hit
repeat on ‘wish you were here’ audrey assad’s cover
and
walk and drink, cigarette stink with heavy hurting sighs
at
six a.m. the bars open and you can resupply
***
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