drugged out of my mind on geodone. eighty mg, twice a day.
new psychiatrist did a double-take when i told him that one.
and up there, above the street--something like 130th and broadway.
it was dark but the lights from the street, bright.
and the reggaton--didn't get to me.
just smoking, out on the fire escape, not thinking a god damn thing.
i could almost see the river.
and the days. see, i had the bed bugs.
so most my stuff--trashed.
pure white addedas, blue jeans, white shirt.
looked like a b-boy. and the folks treated me that way--always asking if i was holding, or if i wanted some smoke. course, i thought i looked like a mental patient. and i suppose someone kicking that style in 2007, well, they'd have to be a mental patient. at least in that hood.
but me, i was just cold, distant, and quiet
No comments:
Post a Comment