Barking Dog

I have committed sins,
Several of them,
And I have confessed before MY almighty,
Begging forgiveness from the ether,
For the many acts of ill repute that I have committed,
In search of some abstract condition,
Feelings and emotions,
Contained in a cellophane wrapper,
Like some static GI Joe,
For all the world to see,
For why must I admit to man?
The faults and flaws of me,
Beyond a solitary act of desperation,
Seeking redemption,
From myself,
Though it must seem so foreign to all of you,
It is surely domestic to me,
Crazy even,
Though I find it is the greatest act of sanity,
I have ever known,
Little bastard thoughts of something,
From a day that all I knew was sex, drugs and rock n’roll,
Cue the “When I was your age speech,”
Snorting away a lifetime of repression,
Chugging back a lifeless and intolerant bitch,
My fragility in a glass,
Scotch both killing and living me,
Hard to explain,
Even more difficult to accept,
And yet in this act of personal treachery,
A seamless transition,
From crazy,
To insanely sane,
Finding cold comfort in my ‘uniqueness,’
I have found that I need no lines,
Other than these I write,
I need not chug that Scotch,
Instead sucking back a dose of reality,
That was the policy of me, unintelligible,
Sound crazy,
I assure you,
It is not,
Though I don’t fit neatly into your world,
I assure you,
You could never fit in mine,
Nor would I wish it upon my worst enemy,
Though I have none,
The cantankerous and painful realizations,
Of a lifetime of building walls,
Wearing masks,
Constructing tales to make myself feel,
At peace,
Though I never was,
But in an act of self destruction and creation,
I write these words,
In the hope,
That just one of you,
Need not experience,
The dark dog that barks,
Inside of me.



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