London glows with pre-dawn light,

I roll my cigarettes next to the river
and stretch my limbs out towards the sun,

I cannot get warm,
my bones ache with longing,
and there is a hunger in my stomach
that no amount of pills or food can fill,

the dull ache of depression is a familiar friend,
yet it is really the relationship of a parasite and its host,

and I am so tired of being bled dry,
of having the life ****** out of me by
the angry mouth of this monster,

whilst time keeps slipping away,
as I smoke and watch the water
ripple, moving further and further away
from me