here's some new writing, enjoy.
10:03 P.M. Poverty strikes you again and again like a cobra.
I’m still awake, which is pretty amazing, but I’ll be sleeping soon, because it’s these long days that are sure get to you when you’re not ready. I’m not sure what’s worse, working all the time or not working all the time and expecting money to fall out of the sky into your waiting hands. Poverty is a rich man driving you mad by whispering into your ears all the secrets of life and poverty is what wakes you in the middle of the night and you realize you are starving but have no food.
All of the nightmares pounding in your head to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, that is what poverty is, rolling out the monsters, the ghosts and all your dark nights one by one forever. Poverty is a needle in the gutter and you collecting cans, counting pennies and thinking about all the money you’ve ever wasted on cigarettes, drugs, alcohol, and stupid purchases.
I know poverty is losing all those years in bars, strip clubs and in houses high on drugs or the time lost waiting to score drugs. Poverty is still the rich man in your head, screaming at you about what a failure you are and to get up and out of bed and to get a job.
Poverty is waking up after a particularly bad night and wondering where all that time goes in the midst of a black out. When you look in the mirror and are not certain of who is staring at you, let me tell you that you can be rest assured it is poverty. In a world of excess knowing a few truths makes all the difference, but not being able to do anything about it but swim with the current and let the sour taste of lies burn like gasoline, that is poverty.
Watching your parents beat one another is another form of poverty and wondering what life is all about as it burns away all around you is even more poverty. Lost at the racetrack after betting your last dollar and losing, then coming home hungry and nothing to take away the pain, that is poverty.
Alone in the city and pills for breakfast is nothing poverty. Feeling nothing towards death, that is poverty, and the absence time is further evidence of poverty. When you burn like fire and are violent and/or emotional when under the influence, someone better tell you what poverty is all about.
Again, poverty is the rich man who runs the world by a machine, holds every dream in a vault and counting each second as a heartbeat and each minute as a lifetime, gone, sold, bartered away by the hour until the end of time. But that is life kid, and you better get fucken used to it, you hear me?
well, i hope that hurt as much is it did to me.
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