Saturday, 29 December 2007
Scummy
I stood in the hall, small as it was and scattered with shoes, bags and bits of bacon the cat had dragged around, playing as she does. The glow of my cigarette the only light as day became night and finally I could rise but for now standing smoking is as good as it was going to get. Step at a time. Slowly but surely. It was never supposed to be so. I was never meant to end up here amongst the scummy people and their scummy lives of sniff, pints and spliffs. I always wanted to be a nice boy. Not scraping by trying to reach the surface.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)