The city lights cried
The bridges were beaten and bare
Rocks cast adrift
Fragments inside the concrete forced me to breathe
I frequently disdained the soul of my death
The lips of ink scraping my day

As the contour of the sun reflects from the windowpane
The layers  of the sea burned
Death in a jar
Distracted and bruised
As the whiskey smoke invades my space
Hands trembling on the glass
This dull fabric of my soul is smudged
With lacerations of my past