misterpoop

Remembering those days with blood coming out of my nose. Trying to shit and vomit at the same time when the morning beer turned into the morning shot. The booze, the heroine up the nose and coke too. Where was that? Somewhere on the lower east side looking for some more in a January wind that felt like an ax in the back. I was with that girl whose name I cant remember. She was a lesbian. Fucked up on drugs, we kissed, and it was like kissing a board. She was the first person Id ever heard use the word Puerile. In what context I can no longer remember. It was she who tried to teach me the ways of Heroine addiction but I was a poor student in that I couldnt pay attention, let alone for the fix. If I believed in God I would thank him for all my Januarys and my Februarys too when I had to sleep in Central Park because I didnt know where else to go.

That I am here is a miracle and I believe it is because I had learned how to cry.

Half my playmates are dead or in prison.