Temper, Temper
You were by my side when I was cautionary tale. I went from zero to a hundred my fist colliding with someone, a roundhouse kick, and shot’s fired. It almost went with the music. I had evolved from guitar player to urban legend. In the concrete bunkers we lived in every night who I was and how I earned the benjy’s in my bloody, bloody left hand were common knowledge. It was still all about the music, but the Saturday thing had crept into Wednesday.
I decided to go dark. I guess then, I only acted like monster, and not so much looked like one. The graffiti, after they took me down, by that Rasta god I called friend at the dive we began so many nights at. Me lying on the ground weapon in hand bleeding, dying. Caption “T’was beauty killed the beast!” in the background a tall woman walking away.
The women, oh the women you witnessed them all, actually liked one or two. A favourite moment when you walked over the model/actress to meet the one I was chatting up. I look at you, and say. et tu Brute, “ both women looked so blank. You manically laughing, because you knew they were from rival agencies the equivalent of Montague’s and Capulet’s in those circles.
Do you remember, pushing me in a wheelchair, when that girl started crying, calling my name?” I didn’t even have to ask, we just left. You were there, and I remain forever in your debt.
After all You of all people should know, that some of that shite they were talking in E 10th Ave was true. In all the time you’ve known me I have never been more “civil.” Yes, I get angry, but I haven’t medicated away the parts of me, which might tend to disturb others, nor do I have any intention to do so.
If I don’t fit into your life in the V.2 I apologise and understand, and I’ll be sad for a while, but this is whom I am for better, or worst. It’s better that you remember me that way I am, than I put on an act when I am around you. I love you too much for, play-acting.
