Unbreakable Habits

When the sidewalk ends and transcendence becomes habitual
I find myself rabid on the streets of a cerebral visual
Running for my life fashioned in track mark tattoos
That take on tadpole legs and continue to batter the breading of new bruises
With spring form and flexibility that puts porn to shame
Forcing your organs to betray their orders isn't easy
But hell it certainly beats this atrocity of day to day
When the utilities are late
And your fighting to stretch a triangle of square meals into a fraction one week's net pay
The days never end
And yet they never begin
It's a cycle of wishing and waiting and wishing
Until
What happens?
Oh yes, that happens
The alarm
What happened to last night?
Damnit
I disarm it gently, even though mentally I want to erase its existence existentially thinking that physical violence is a viable decision though I know in my heart this is fiction
So this is me before coffee
I choose to hit the snooze and remove most of these dreams from my morning collar of smokers cough even though I quit over 4 weeks ago
As I said, it's habitual
This ritual of existing
Beyond oneself
A transistor to the melting pot
I'm just resisting the shell and plotting rebellion and not
Doing what I should be doing
Because truthfully
I don't know what that is
In script I can admit that my path just takes a sharp dip
and a dive off the cliff where I died
Writing this poem while driving
Nope I'm just kidding I'm doing bong hits and getting high
Regardless of where I reside or what I'm doing with my life
I'm just writing this for you to read it because that's how I deal with stress in my life
My grandmother said it best when I was about 15 years of age
No matter what you do in your life, you will always be a writer...always