"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness"-Allen Ginsberg

 

Like me running on empty

Dreaming of seeing me

Glued to the bittersweetness of depression

Its gift of escape luring me into capitulation

 

The fear of not being me

The knowledge that there is no real me

Just a collage, a martini of everyone else

Mutability?

 

Taking on the role of the players

Attempting to prove the truth in my character

While provoking a pseudo--relationship with myself

Hail. This is what I've become