Keeping it Real ~by Quil
As a kid, I never once played catch with my Dad,
But I watched him catch an STD from some woman he had.
My Dad and his friend use to put acid in their lids,
Then play in the living room like 13 year old kids.
When my Mom would come home and I’d tell her what I’d see,
She would yawn, pat me on the head and say that’s sweet honey.
Years later my Mom finally left my Dad,
She packed up his shit and took everything he had.
We got in the car and drove through the night,
As my life was changed, for the wrong or the right.
Now, to zoom in on me, my name is Dennis Robert Ball,
I was a kid who grew up with about nothing at all,
Except two Jehovah’s Witness who loved to smoke pot,
They called themselves parents and they yelled a lot.
I was given paper and pencils, four walls and a door,
And thus made my own world in the eye of that storm.
However as a kid I locked away any feelings of pain, sorrow and fret,
And one day it began boiling and turned to regret,
Slowly but surely questions would erupt and flow through my mind,
And the was only one place, for me, with answers to find…
Drugs. I found them, I took them, I fell slave to one,
I got confident, I got married, I got comfortable and dumb.
Divorce was quick as well as stabs to the back,
And that’s when I derailed and flew off the track.
Suicide sounded so peaceful back then.
Anything, to put all that bullshit to an end.
So… I tried… I OD’d, I puked, I survived,
I got mad, tried again, I puked and I cried.
And not just one more time, but quite a few,
I tried to kill the pains of… you know who.
I finally gave in on suicide attempt number nine,
And told the E.R. that I was losing my mind.
They sent me off to rehab, which helped for a minute or two,
But with each passing second my cravings grew and they grew,
I ran back to the pills and took way more than before,
And then watched the closing of door, after door, after door, after door…
Then, my body began rejecting the DXM,
And if I would take it, a heart attack would set in,
And after one night, after heart attack number five,
I finally found a strange will… to be alive…
And I composed myself…
I swept up all the shards of my heart,
I ripped open my chest and poured back in the parts,
I closed my eyes, I told my past “Goodbye”,
And for the first time ever, I gave living a try.
Now I can apply all that I’ve learned.
I’ve found some peace, it just had to be earned.
I am a person who chooses to see the good in others,
Because I can’t make it without help from my sisters and brothers.
I’ve watched them all cry, scream, smile and laugh,
And realize that we’re all on our own spiritual path.
I look at each crisis as a way to learn and to grow,
That way I have something in myself I can show,
Something, anything, but suicide attempts, drugs and pain,
To show the world I don’t live in regret, contempt and shame,
I am alive today.
I have arrived today.
It moved out of the way.
I’ve left it all on the back burners of my mind,
So that I remind myself, You have to look if you want to find.
And when I look down at what I still have,
I see a paper and a pencil, and I go to the lab,
These days I write down anything I think or I feel,
My name is Dennis Robert Ball, and I’m just keeping it real.
Turns out I never had a heart attack, they were panic attacks, but thats how I wrote it so… whatever. I wasn’t going to put this here because I feel I’ve grown out of this type of venting, but after having read many other peoples works, I felt it might help some people. Thank you again for reading my words.