O you who saw me wander blind,
who smelled the **** on my clothes,
and the ***** on my breath,
December in my bones.
I walked alleys—
churches of broken glass, garbage.
Darkness sliced like a razor.
Women smiling like ragged motives.
The bottle—my only bible.
A spark of light.
A touch. A word.
Love punched a hole in the frozen morning.
Left hook like Marciano—
cut through the fog.
I trembled.
The sun shone through my homeless streets.
I walk now in a merciful light.
No gutters, no homeless shelters,
No dead-end taverns—
ghosts that call, but can't touch me.
I am delivered, grateful, and changed.
I still recall every fall.
Every stumble.
Every bitter, cold night of the soul.
I prayed to survive.