Intricate B

My name is Jason.
Adictions..
I've had many..
Pain? I've had A LOT...
Love? Had it.
Pain? Yes...
Family? Lost it..
Kids? Had them.. (did I mention pain?)
Ask me what I do for a few living?
I am a poet..
Is there at least one sort of drug, in my sustem every day?
Yes.. but what's a day with a little dizzy?
I bury my pain with booz, and drugs, and various billy bad a*s reindeer games.
Do I hurt? More than words in the English language can explain.
What do I want out of life?
To be happy..
Will I ever be?
Probably not.
I am an American f**k up.
I, in complete honesty with myself, will probably end my life on my own terms. Because f**k you!!
Because f**k the world!!
I want to exploit my feelings, and live off of the riches, but realistically and logically speaking, I will drink myself to death before I see a penny..I am depressed.
I constantly question my sanity.
I don't talk to people about s**t that needs talked about
I'm a tough guy
But am emotionally soft.
My only outlet for my pain is my writing,
And it is quickly losing its therapeutic properties.
I have written pain on paper that none but I will EVER lay eyes upon in the guise of poetry..
Pain that people can't fathom.
Pain of losing 3 of the only 4 things that ever mattered to me..
My kids.
My sanity...
My soul,...
My name is Jason,
And I am an American f**k up.
I am a wasted youth.
I am an American poet.
Ihave a fractured mind.
I am Intricate B.