Addict Over Artistry: 2 Poems

I never smoked heroin
but always related to heroin addicts
their thoughts; their goals = drugs
when I learned of needle fixation
seeing that lust in their eyes
that felt like me, with my chosen scene
when you’ve grown up in mediocrity
(music the only other thing I found inspiring,
but discouraged from pursuing…)
when drugs cross your path
it takes you right up and above the stars
and once you know, letting go of it is hard
and for over 10 years I continued on that path
chasing good feelings instead of working hard
on musical and artistic dreams;
not saying fuck you to those doubting me;
not dismissing that crucial lie told to me:
that just ‘cuz I wasn’t some
“incredible artistic child prodigy”
that I could never amount to anything…

~

Since discouraged in artistry
drugs were a great alternative
to spend the time, to feel that high,
by just drinking, smoking or bombing life
but I bet that it don’t feel so nice
if you get to old age,
with nothing to show,
but endless parades,
of booze, weed
and crystal dreams;
the artistry staying underneath
and what perhaps you could have been
is now only a passing memory…