Chemical Addiction

Half past Noon. Eyes on the street ahead.
Everything seems as usual.
A voice, I hear, calls me 'friend'.
There, we're all friends, so I turn to look.
'The pigs are here', my friend dressed in drag
Informs me, in her transexual tone.
'Fuck!', come to my mind.
She asks me for some cash to buy some liquor;
Standing up at the bar counter.
I couldn't help her with that.
I had come to help myself.
And though I wish I could have a substitute
For my everyday courting of Lady Death,
The thought of liquor wouldn't even come.

To paraphrase 'The Velvet Underground',
"First thing you learn is that you always got to wait."
I waited. In bookstores and bathroom stalls,
I watched hours pass by. I can't never get them back.
And the one thing I was afraid of was that they'd take what
I'd come to get. Imagining all of it gone, I got a fright.
But at two o'clock on the dot I came out from my hiding.
I kept looking for suspecious activity as I neared my destination,
The one of before. 'Pigs can't linger too long'.

'Pigs were gone'. I almost gave out a smile.
Others, like me, were there too. Waiting.
The wait. We kept on waiting and someone
Yelled for us to take our shirts off, so I did.
'They could come back', another friend tells me.
I payed no heed to that. I stood my ground,
Shirtless around men with guns ready,
Some'd pass by with bags I could only imagine
What was inside. But my spirit was heating up.
The Sun was up. My conscience was fine.

'Run, little piggy!', I remembered from an old movie.
But the thing chemical addiction is just that,
Running's not an option.
Change, is a whole different story, one I might write about.
You wait. You only run when you have it, so you'll come
Home with it sooner.
One taste. I'll tell you this, is all it takes
For life's pain to drift away in a stream of consciouness
Which you control as much as it controls you.
That's a real feeling. Suddenly, I feel human again,
But of a different breed.
Bark, rebel dog!;
Let the feeling flow within you.

Soon, night will come, and it belongs to us dogs.
No matter how many fancy dinners are open, or
How many gatherings of friends are occurring,
How many smiles.
It's a commitment: chemical addition.
I tune my guitar, high as a kite.
The notes come out and join me.
I cried, last night. My guitar will do that for me today.
But there'll be no crying at all.
A symphony. Joy. Warmth.
I'm myself again.
I hope those who read this understand the complexity
Of it all.
Chemical addiction.
Feelings.
White walls.
Sounds.
Music.
No pain.