My breath smells like coffee because I drink it too much
Teeth are yellow and brittle to the touch.
I take a shot of espresso and I learn another little lesson
About how I can’t wake up without a little hit,
Of that good old inky black liquid.
As much as I take I can never get enough.
I like a blonde roast, but don’t get it from Starbucks.
I don’t support that corporate greed,
I’m better than them, I don’t monopolize a coffee seed.
Because a coffee bean is not a what you thought –
Using the term ‘bean’ is inherently frought
With a lot of misconceptions of a pinto or kidney
And I’ll only eat those when I’m trying to give me
An attack of the bowels, something sinister inside.
My stomach starts grumbling and I try to ride
Out the symptoms of a horrible bout.
There are times where I’d rather have ED or gout.
I already have ED, so that’s out.
I’m twenty-eight and my sex drive is south
Of nothing, and it’s entirely unapologetic.
But I am because when I get a girl over,
I say sorry so many times when she’s waiting under covers
And I’m too nervous to open up and say I’m nervous
I’d rather just hide in my shell like a shriveled little tortoise.
Look at that, I’ve gone on so many tangents,
Diverging so much I can’t remember what the rant is
About, so I’ll just tell you a story
Of how I got started – just try not to deplore me.
I grew up in a town that was predominantly Jewish
And though I was a kid, in this town we were the poorest.
But the poorest in a rich town still gets the Gamecube,
Though it’d come a little later because we didn’t have the means to
Get it on time. All of these kids would play games with my mind.
I perceived it as such and at an early age was when I began to unwind.
I wanted all the girls, to be praised and an object of desire.
I wanted to be validated, nay, it was required.
Shadows descended when I was reciprocated
With my actions of anger with all of my peers’ hatred.
I never learned how, for my acts, I must take responsibility –
How I was the only one with the ability
To restitute for the absolute destitutions
I imparted on my friends in this public institution,
So highly regarded – I was quickly departed
From a state of reality that was soon discarded.
I chose another in the smoke from a pipe and
The mouth of a bottle and I could barely stand.
I lost my friends and was again all alone.
I had pushed them away and the making was my own.
Going through life without caring about others,
Not my friends, my sister, my dad, nor my mother.
Started wheeling and dealing, slinging to make money
And I did without any charm or being funny!
But I got caught and consequences piled on
I got kicked out of my house when my mom
In her wisdom saw that I needed to be stopped.
And I did, but happiness was still a long shot.
Go to IOP day in and out with my meetings at night
Meeting people who smiled and were filled with a light
Air of confidence and joy, one I couldn’t relate.
I guessed I was just different, that it was my fate
To be a miserable fuck, but I was in luck -
For destiny would come and hit me like a truck.
Sober two years and I wanted to kill myself.
Staring down at the ground like a toy on the shelf.
I was ready to die – I’m not going to lie.
Knowing that without me people would have better lives.
How can I stay like this for such a long time
When everyone else doesn’t get high and they do fine?
Echoes of my past returned of my childhood repressed
So miserable and spurned, I was hopelessly depressed.
And just as I was about to call up my dealer,
A person interjected and called – a human healer.
They talked me down from the ledge and met me and we talked,
And they guided me through steps from which I never balked.
I got better and escaped from the clutches of defeat.
And since then I haven’t looked back or given into the deceit,
All the lies that my mind tries to convince me
How there’s never been a worse person before or since me.
Quickly, I found a place for myself
Embedded with a group of people who wanted to help.
Going out, making calls to others who had tried to do the same
To either get high to the end or put an end to their pain.
So, just because I’m older now and stuff doesn’t work
How my stomach and genitals are making a concerted
Effort to bring me back to misery,
There’s a guiding force in my life which I bring with me.
A coffee bean is still a seed technically,
But to impart my beliefs is detrimental and needs
To be cauterized like a bloody nose.
God, I just want my penis to do what it’s supposed
To, so I don’t have to apologize every time someone comes
Over though they never actually come.
If that’s my biggest problem, then my life’s not so bad.
Yeah, fine, it may make me less of a man.
But let’s call it a tie and cut the wheat from the chaff
Because I’m alive and doing the best I can.
