Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Wrath

The grass was a different color this morning. The fog was a different feel. Waking up in the lawn chair is where i dreamt i'd find myself as a kid. Dazed. I used my arm as a pillow last night. I never thought this would be my life. No mailbox. No mirrors. No toothpaste. No slacks. No sugar for my coffee. No. No. No. No good morning kiss? No. Dirty band-aids on my bestubbled head. They burn but so does the alcohol that lathers over my organs. Coming up with excuses so i don't have to see people. They would benevolently slit my throat if they could hear my thoughts.