i, too, am trapped in that torus.
round and round and upside down
my empty soul
is a black hole
a grave, a cavity,
with massive gravity
a yawning abyss
of ignorant bliss
mary jane has been my girl for over forty years.
we started going steady when i was only twelve.
although we were separated at times,
and i dated other girls,
she was my soul mate.
i stayed faithful to her for most of my life,
but the honeymoon ended about a dozen years ago.
i am no longer in love.
i want a divorce.
after all this time, over 80% of my life,
i can hardly imagine a world without her.
my attempts to go it alone have all ended in flames.
i can manage anywhere from a few days to a couple months,
but when times get tough, when tension mounts and tempers flare, i hear her sweet siren's call.
at the first sign of trouble or trauma,
i fail, and fall for the false feeling of comfort i get when i fold.
depending on temporary external unhealthy expensive illegal solutions to permanent internal natural spiritual emotional mental problems is the very definition of insanity and ignorance.
and yet, as i sit here, with no supplies,
my mind is playing tricks on me.
sure, i've done it a couple of times.
everybody's crossed a few lines.
what's the big deal?
i can handle the situation.
hallucination of imagination.
nothing is really real.
i must admit, the stuff is sh!t.
it's a nasty habit and i gotta quit.
but i need another hit, just a little bit... more.
it's not like i'm completely hooked.
i may look a little crooked,
but i'm going straight...
to the corner store.
gotta buy me a bag of candy.
have to have to have it handy.
are you joking?
smoking, puffing, choking, coughing.
say it don't mean nothing.
but i'm building my own coffin.
ganja slave, it's all i crave
looking cool. acting brave.
but i'm digging my own grave.
here come the devil to sell me a shovel.
but i ain't dead yet,
and i'm dying for a cigarette.