... i sUrvived

The sun is rising slowly, the sky is a shallow powdered blue. She said she doesn't trust me, but does she trust you? Suicidal daydreaming, suspicious; what kind of love is this? Don't wait for the birds to chirp, there's still rain falling from the trees. Chasing the dragon, unto my brain waves I seek refuge in your safe place. The widow to my nightmares, my demon and my slave. I sell quarters for counterfeit, borrow money from title loans. My title is derelict, I am ... I, Mr. Saint. Scrambled about it spells my name. Beer and weed; drugs for currency, we all smell of piss and shame. A plastic tote of belongings, memories and tees. A handful of regrets with a pair of boxer briefs. Rain falls down like tears, tho it's not the hottest part of the year. this mid-July torment ... I reflect on the yesteryear.