Why?
The empiness surounds me and eats me up inside. I don't know how long I'll go before I die. No one saw it coming be they say that's how it works. I didn't do all I could now I can't describe the hurt. I almost laughed as I read the paper they fucked things all up. If people new what's in my head chances are I'd be locked up. We all know what caused this hell still I'm without a clue. All I want to know is WHY?
Jonny I'll miss you. We were gonna go somewhere somehow I know for sure. What up kid, watchu need? I gotchu right here, word. I wonder if there was something I could have done I only wish I knew. If there is a God up there to me he just said FUCK YOU!
How did all this happen? My whole life fell apart. Alone I'm left to pick up the pieces and so thank God I'm smart.
All I had is lost and all I know is wrong so all that's left for me to do is light and pass the bong. Last night I got so fucked up, did everything I could get. It was fun and cool and all but it was all to forget. Forget the pain and grief that's lately come on me. No one understands how dangerous I am, man. Fuel the fire and feel the heat.
Last night at the beach was fun as all fuck but all that I wish is to back the fuck up.
Each thought is a drop of water in this waterfall of mind, blindfolded I hold a shotglass to catch one at a time.
Sometimes I can write forever or at least that's how it seems. The pen isn't nearly as mighty as the sword but it's pretty fucking mean. Then I wonder if one word I write makes sense to anyone but me.
*In loving memory of Jon Christofer Erickson
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Sit down to have another beer with hopes it will somehow cloud my fears of the familiar yet again in life. The quest for one to be my wife, Again in silence cob-webbed minds draw the blinds to roll another joint. My homeless friends worse off than me somehow I can't quite grasp the point. All of this, life's downs and downs, this clown longs for other towns. These words of rhyme frustrate my mind. I'm blind to kind society. Why are people afraid of me. Push them all away again until I have not one friend. The end is here, the end is nigh. So have a beer before you die. All poems written by
Matt Gillis