Sitting drunk and alone In my dark apartment Watching the neon lights flashing through the windows Listening to the traffic on the freeway Burnt-out, strung-out, Starting on my second bottle of Jack Daniels While I wonder what the hell happened One day I had it all I was everything I ever wanted to be The next day a violent crash And it all disappeared Down on my luck And I don't give a fuck That's become my motto Or maybe it's a more of a mantra I figure if I say it to myself enough times I'll believe it I'm broke, lonely And I feel like I wanna die I flick the blade on the table in front of me With my finger Watch it spinning in the moonlight Think how easy it would be. . . A flick of the wrist Watch the blood come Watch the whole room fade to black I can hear the rats chewing holes in the walls I like them They look at me, and they just take what they want They don't ask anything of me And they never try to understand, because they know they can't I prefer them to humans, most times Some people still come to see me I think they just want to check to see if I've died yet They sit and talk incessantly Trying to cover the silence Because I never talk to them They always try to help me But I don't need help I need. . . I need another drink Another cigarette Last one's burnt out in my fingers No, don't come to see me Don't try to help Just leave me. . . in my drunken ignorance My private bliss Where the rats are all the company I need. written 8/19/98