20

20

20 was lost

20 was feeling found

20 was knowing what was best and doing the worst

20 was self-righteous fury and the arrogant absurdity of youth

20 is a broken memory of Captain Morgan and Jack Daniels screaming Viva Chavez at 4:00 AM in a Denny’s Parking lot

20 was a rusty syringe, discarded in an old dumpster in North Lawndale

20 was endless parade of flag draped coffins returning from the deserts of Babylon

20 was Mission Accomplished

20 was a cocaine fueled WMD hurtling towards our own destruction sippin' 40s, waving two one finger salutes and screaming Fuck Bush at anyone that would listen

20 was bare knuckle boxing in alleyways and parks, choking on the blood, and getting up the next morning with smile plastered across my face

20 was thinking that I was special

20 was thinking that we were unique

20 was being the most childish adult

And the most adult child

20 was mistakenly thinking that somehow,

It could never get any worse

(little did we know)

20 was that night that Marky Mark and Gerald fell off that third story balcony in the middle of the night

20 was lying to the cops

20 was a tragic accident, so we said

20 was those round faced officers scoffing at our camaraderie

Why protect somebody like this?

20 was telling them to fuck all the way off.

20 was an endless parade of heartbreak and deceit,

A never ending journey on a Greyhound bus through the heart of the Middle West in the dead of night, knowing, just knowing that an answer to our problems lay just around the bend up ahead

But all that we found was a drunken truck driver at a gas station outside Madison, swearing that he had seen some shit

20 was dead bodies floating in the tepid waters of the deep south

20 was the worst good year

20 was the best bad year

20 was a terrible first date

20 was being trapped inside a cancerous lung, powerless to do anything more than lay there helplessly, watch it slowly throb and breath it’s last breath

Before it died alone in obscurity

20 was seeing the Barbarians of Greed, Lust and Selfishness at the gate

And opening the fucking front door,

Waving them on in, because they’re all that are welcome here now

20 was an empty, cracked smile

It’s all okay, after all,

You’ve always got Zoloft, King Cobra and Grass to keep you company

Hey, as long as they keep the nightmares at bay, it’s all good to me

(Probably won’t live to see 21 anyhow)

20 was letting the devil out of his pen to run amok

20 was breathing smoke and touching fire

20 was feeling ice cold and alone

20 was collective madness

20 was watching everyone fiddle away as Rome burned to the ground

Unaware, that this, in all its hedonistic vainglory, was the the last day before the End of the World

20 was joining in because the music of destruction was just so damn good

20 was a walking dream,

Impossible to piece together now

20 was broken glass

20 was confused metaphors and jumbled emotions

20 was lost

20 was feeling found

20 will never come again, if it ever truly ended

20 will never end, if it ever truly started

20 was.