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