the pain of razor sharp bone shards hiding under the skin of my leg is a welcome relief from the snakes inside my head. striking wildly at my emotions and ideals the past present and future fangs sink deep with every bite.
 The past, drugs i once used in quantitys that should kill people. That i prayed would kill me and then resented for not, detested for their weakness, thier inability to perform such a simple task.
The present. this shallow work eat shit and sleep existance so far removed from the wild carefree wanderings of my past stings my convictions. my belief that i am capable of greatness seems so distant and remote from here.
the future. a question mark of fear in a vast darkness shining but not beautiful as i once believed it would be. the part of me i killed in the past that i never noticed die a little with every breath of poison.
dare i dip a pen in the venom now. these are not words of greatness and hope, the words i once aspired to write. no these are a mean spitefull lash to intended to hurt, not pretty but true nonetheless.
tired i put this hurt to bed once again.