Old Mexico

I lost my soul in old mexico.

Most people give in to sensations, temptations of the flesh, and the purity of that white alcohol they pedal down there, but not me. No, I chose to deteriorate from the a punch drunk love of life.

Darkness tried to liken itself to me. Pour inside my body when I was sleeping and take control over my emotions, but I fought if off with the healing power of self gratification.

Not even the sounds of mariachis and screams from the Mexican hookers in their cheap hotel rooms could soften my spirit.

I'll admit, I was tempted to stray from the broken path, but I followed it all the way down to its depths.

A phoenix, doused with water.

A butterfly, transformed into a moth.

I fell hard in old mexico, and promised never to leave.

To love.

To run free.