Chuck vs. Pat:
the difference between me and him.
he had it much harder, the drink was
the only constant clean'pillow
between shit spoiled blood
and piss broken
glass moments.

he fucking choked god, had god cough
up bits of breakfast toast on
his collar while god begged
for mercy.
he, well, he drank
in very certain bars, drank in
preferred and isolated rooms, and after
gods bile and toast stains had washed a bit, he
lost interest in any interest
to have a chat
with the devil.

he was alot more blade
to bleed, alot more just a penny and I can
feed, he played the horses, praying the locks keep enough
to keep the whores scratching at the door, he
saw the end early and was drooling, smirk and was
ready.

im a bit more of the creampuff, full of
love for the rest of you, hope and belief in
the rest of you, and thank god
he is dead.

his ridicule would really
piss me off.