Never.

She never in a million years thought that she would have to live without him.That he would drive her to the point that she could not come back from.She is not sleeping again.

She re-read the letters that she has horded,their past,good and bad,more precious than diamonds.She was never going to leave.She never wanted it to end but the hurts piled up on each other day after day. He has had someone to ease his pain.She has not and she wont.She wonders who the next lucky hole will be…..

So long without his voice.

She knows that she made mistakes,she feels them more deeply than she was given credit for.But she loved him more than she ever loved herself and it was not enough.

Hope sinks like a stone.

I seem to be in a bad way again.Ok,why fuck around and mince words.I am in a bad way again and I hope that I can see my way clear.( “Iceberg! Starboard!”) I am climbing the walls and even though my ideas are good and my aim is true I wonder why I bother.( Why do I bother?) The weight can crush you if you are not equipped to lift it and today I am not.My small life with my faded big dreams.I can hear the early morning trains huffing in the distance and I wish the night was longer.

I stay awake because my mind flat out refuse to stop.Things that shouldn’t drive me crazy do.The details.Time to pack up my life again and fade away.And its all too much effort.The only thing that is any good right now,and I find this so ironic,is my voice.That I am not in a band makes it even funnier.My small bathroom is an acoustic mecca.And then there is my room.Almost all of my ceiling has fallen in and because I am not a big ol’ famous rockstar I know that it ain’t gonna get fixed. I don’t want to be here anymore.I need more tattoos or else I am gonna have to get my kicks with a knife .

Fragile.How the fuck can I be built the way that I am and be fragile? It makes no sense.Us humans.What a joke. I put up pictures to prove what? “Hey! Look at Me! I am fine!” Uh-huh.Sure you are.Go lose some more weight.

An unexpected gift.I read that I was a cross between Angelina Jolie and Steven Tyler a few days ago. My heart restarted, beat 4 times and then fell silent once again.I don’t know what to do with kindness.I don’t know what the fuck I am doing at all. ( so glad that it has all worked out for you as always…) I read letters from sweet souls who tell me that I have made their lives some how richer? How,I really cannot fathom but anyway…Its really nice but I cannot seem to heal myself and its a hard fucking yard. My nerves are shot.I was a fucking pirate.We both were . (Hurt? You wanna talk about hurt? Pissed off?? look at what you left behind .) Nothing fazed me and now everything does.This is not a quality I wish to possess.

I see all.

Dog will hunt.Ain’t that right?

I did not get to jam this weekend but I wrote some.It’s a long weekend so I know that people are doing stuff.I practiced my finger picking till my hands cramped in the cold.No where near as good as Blackie but way better than I used to be so I guess that is something..I wonder where they are in Europe and I hope that the tour is going well.

My life.It’s all getting me down and I try to fight it off.All this dental work is shit.I swore to myself that I would get it all done this year but it’s really hard to keep going.Thought it may help my self esteem,you know,not having a smile like a retired street fighter.What self esteem? I just want to be finished.I don’t smile real wide anymore because of the gaps.Ha! I don’t smile anyway so I guess that its not that much of a problem.That’s a plus right?

I thought I knew who I was and where I was going.( we were going to build an empire ). Heartbreak does nothing tasty for my looks I will tell you that for a fact. I know where this is leading me and I could try to stop it but I won’t. I will take it out on myself physically.Why? Because that is where I have control.That is where I am the boss. Love? Love took me for a ride ,fucked me and never called.That is what I got from love. But the gym? The gym has eyes in the form of mirrors that show me my every failing and mistake and I have and make many.It is empty for hours and I sweat and pace like a caged animal.In that temple I forget myself. I will train my corpse to do what I want it to.I will fuel it and flog it….

And no motherfucker will ever touch me again.

I miss having something to look forward to.I miss sharing my life with my love. Goodbye forever. Oh well.

So here is to me and my untouched loveless corpse.Here is to my atrophied aorta.Here is to maybe,just maybe, feeling like life is worth living.Here is to hopefully not making old bones because,hey, who cares?

Funerals.

Mate,everyone showed up for you..I stood by Mo and Oscar and I cried my fucking face off. Everyone spoke so beautifully about you and it broke me seeing your dog sit by your coffin.I didn’t come up and lay a flower.I wanted to be invisible.I could not have moved if I tried.Then Angry got up to talk about you and his words and sincerity ripped me right down the middle.Kingy giving me a huge hug and me shaking like a a poodle trying to crap a pine-cone.All my own grief so readily reactivated.Always so close to my paper thin surface looking for escape routes.So many cunts roaming the planet,a few of them at your wake may I add, and you,dear Clarky, gone.

I remembered your sweetness on the road and in Europe.You tuning the PA’s with Bloodduster….

“I was just talking about you the other day Michele” Said Angry and took my hand in his. I sat on the edge of the table with a sigh and we spoke of sadness.He fixed me with those thousand mile eyes and saw right into the depth of my loss. I wondered how much he knew,what he had been told of the reasons why I barely exist anymore.He spoke to me about standing for what I believe in and the healing power of  time.He asked me what I was doing with my music,said that he loved what I did.I told him I was singing again. “Not just yelling” I smiled.He laughed that great laugh of his “I always knew you could do that!” .I invited him to my show and he assured me that he would not miss it. I got up to go.

“I like your hair,you look lovely” he said like the father I wished I had. I blushed ” Yeah,I grew up!” I sheepishly replied “Don’t get me wrong Mish,I liked the dreads but you look beautiful love” and with that he gave me a iron gripped hug and folded back into the somber black clad crowd.

Beautiful Mary Cocks,Mick’s widow full of such sweet words. She told me how  Mick spoke highly of me. I still regret not being here for his funeral.He was the reason my old band ended up in Europe. Being with him and Kingy backstage I always felt like a cross between a princess and a treasured kid sister.

I said my goodbyes and left.

Crying behind my big glasses on the train home thinking that I would be squinting into the darkness at every show to see if Clarky was on the desk.

Rest in peace.

I wish that I could.

And I wonder.Would you show up to my wake in sadness or to piss on my grave?