I'VE SMOKED MY FRIENDS DOWN TO THE FILTER.
DRAGGED MYSELF TO THE GUTTER.
WITH THE BUMS AND THE BROKEN,
THE WEARY AND DOWNTRODDEN.
THE DREGS OF MY CITY'S TEACUP.
AND AS NIGHT FALLS, THE VERMIN COME CRAWLING.
LIKE ROACHES IN A DARKENED KITCHEN.
OR AN OPEN GRAVE.
SO.
WITH SUNKEN EYES AND A HEAVY HEART,
I BURNED MY LAST BRIDGE TO THE PAST.
DISTANCE, ABSENCE, LOST.