SIMONETTA

& when I was younger I thought, that I was the greatest artist of all
 Today I know that I suck just like everybody else I thought,
 that I knew the greatest pains
 Today, I know that everyone does, with the exception of some who cannot shut up about it myself included 
 
I cannot be pain-free Who would I be without it?

 Who would I be without going mad in my white-walled room?
 Who would I be without getting drunk behind closed doors? 
 Who would I be without my pills, and books, and men, and stomach aches, and morning blood in my mouth, a happy person?! 

No. 

I am an artist
 And I ache like one!

What are you doing to me? Are you ever going to get easier, or should I just get used to it? Sometimes you seem nice, soft. And then, out of the blue, I cannot wait to quit you. 
Oh, dear life… You’re a gambler! an illusionist! a lover no one’s ever invited to bed! You come in without knocking And once you enter a room you forget what you wanted. Oh, dear life… You’re a beast! a fraud! a liar! And perhaps your biggest sin is the hope you provide every morning. And we, how stupid of us, we fall for it. Some of us try to forget every night but some, the naive ones naked barefoot hungry keep on trying ‘till the new dose of a morning hope comes Life, you’re a beast!

I read poems written by a 50-year-old man about loneliness that you can feel only at 3 am or 5:45 about agony so powerful that makes you believe in Jesus for a short period of time about wishing to sleep on clean sheets about wishing to be there with someone who has the courtesy to at least pretend they care about admitting the viciousness and benevolence of life About stolen beers, and stolen minds, and stolen hearts that stole your beer, and your heart right after you lost your mind 

 about endless days and sleepless nights 

giving up on tomorrow’s And I understand it but when I do, I wish I didn’t.
 He said: "My soul is old but dick's still hard days are way too long I think I’m gonna die."

& I’ve been running away from home since I was ten Looking for safety in other people only to find myself in the previous dead-end But I’ve never had a friend someone who understands me The one who’s been blessed with the same cruelty of life Who’s blood’s just as intoxicated but pure as mine I’ve been longing for I’ve been horny for someone to understand me for a long, long time I need someone who wants to die but is mad enough to remain alive

If you’ve never been running for your life blackmailing God in cry  you are not going to understand  And that’s okay But if you have and you do understand,  Then that’s okay too  It’s part of life and when you don’t think about it, life is beautiful  It all starts once you begin to think That’s when the most vile ideas enter The nice ones approach you naturally and without trying they fit right where they belong The dark ones are hard work  Soon you become a full-time thinker Doing over times  No pay  Hopefully no exposure  And purely for the experience Which has the potential to make you completely unemployable  So, when you think about it - don’t Because then you’ll end up running for your life, blackmailing God in cry where you can finally come to the realisation that this isn’t what you wanted to understand. And that’s okay too. As I was writing these words on a bench a man stopped a meter away from me to take a piss. I think I should quit thinking for good guess that too would be okay.

Or is today weirder than usual? Bathrooms stink of urine more than other days, people are complaining about other people’s complaints and Merlot costs £2 more but my hungover will be just the same as £2 before We are forced to be okay with everything as if everything didn’t concern us My mother told me: If you cannot change it, accept it. But not tonight mom, tonight I can only bitch about it.