Picture taken from Pinterest

Not too many horizons

when you live in a small home

with small windows

and thick blinders

and only face the smoky ceiling

as you sit sprawled on the bed,

bottle in hand, more empty than full,

cigarette between fingers, more ashes

than light.

Work starts only the day after tomorrow

so there is nothing to do now

just like there won’t be much to do then

He’s not alone in this,

this young man

He thinks now of past lovers

and it’s like God delivers a gift all of a sudden

There’s a knock on the door

he stands


about to vomit

and finds his way to the door




It’s been… What, a year already?

The woman holds a child in her arms

and tells him it’s his.

The same whore who ran away with the little

money he had about a year ago,

just after they’ve done it and got wasted on the

same bed he rose from.

Thank you, God

It’s, you know, just what the

hell I needed.


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