all my bobby mcgees
have died

or passed on
In some sort of purgatory-

of drinking
and smoking,

Reeking havoc like a centrifuge spewing

all
Smoke and mirrors-
surrounding themselves-

With solutions
And back handed compliments–
TO keep it
Swirling

coughing smoking death
drinking ,drugging hilarity-

Rollercoaster ride
With
Enabled
Wisdum:

Fueled by self-hate &
an echo chamber of paranoia-

misconstrued dopamine hits

That rarely still works,
As intended

Your
Curated synapses in a loop one out pacing the other
Not a joy ride anymore,
JUST
A destination bleak and

if HONEST I am well rehearsed in these catacombs
If honest I well versed in shadows

So,
Find your way
and maybe

Maybe
To
someone
else
Something else
Life affirming
Instead of hanging on that sinking ship,

Running out of options,