The Critic Magazine

Johnny’s Wild Years

Not shame, but more a pulsing regretThat I was so wild and thoughtless,Careless of others’ feelings, feeding my greed.Musk, champagne, drugs and deceptions,The casual cruelties, the kindnesses ignored,I was an animal, saurian with smiles.Yet some used me, for the charm or play,And they defeated me and that pain mayHave glimmered self-awareness to my trials.No blissful distractions, nor nakedness, restoredThe lust befuddled ambient light’s confections,Folding softly into something else, a kind of needOf conquest, to reaffirm an insensate othernessThat was half-met but lost in a kind of debt.

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