not a poem

this is not a poem, it
is an apology.
let me promise you that
i am nothing but so
very sorry for my
consenting corruption
of self. the voodoo of
vodka and seduction
of psychedelics have
exorcised the entrance
to my mind. imagine,
kaleidoscopic surge
of serotonin to
strike against persistent
dispassion. please under-
stand that this was never
a mutiny against 
my beloved mother,
but a rebellion
to repel apathy. 
i wanted to feel something
positive, and i found
an unlimited source 
of euphoria. i
don’t know if you’ve ever 
craved death, but if you have,
i do not think you will
resent me this blessed
escape from myself. you
can scream that i am weak
and worthless all you want.
let me assure you, i 
agree. kiss me goodnight
one last time, dear mother,
your little girl must sleep.