habits

all the bad habits are coming back
i was winning and now I'm lost
lost in an array of shadows and ego
lost to Jung and King

do i have a choice?
free thought of free mind and will
but where does it go?
all of it in the fire pit with a shovel

bury me for five days and see if i can sustain survival
howl at the moon with me in a coffin
next to a corpse, a corpse of my younger self
he talks to me in my mind

i let him speak words that i would say back then,
like vodka and rum and check and chug
i'm back to that stage
losing, weeping blood and selling out

strung out
nowhere to go
i'm turning into my father
put a gun to my head

what saves me is this tiny box
these little keys
words, adventure, chaos
only i could learn so often

she's good to me
as it's plainly seen
i miss her so
please don't go, don't leave
be with me

i hack at my vices
they are real and i'm weak right now
let me fly into the story realm
where soap stretches skin
your bank book, the killer

i will get out of despondency
go back to life as is
but i hear everything
and, true enough, that makes a sinner