My pencils are breaking- Pens have spilled too much ink But at least I'm still writing. The flannel I have, Smuggling collarbones From chilly apartment- I've worn that all week. There's a cigarette burn In one sleeve, The buttons have come unhinged During midnight runs to the corner For cheap chocolate And cigarettes. Ramen boils To salt my appetite. But at least I'm still writing. I leap from place to place, Eyeing hoods passing by, And I imagine guns tucked away. The sink leaks, There's not enough sun. I'm high on debt And college school books Rot in the corner. I guess my degree Has gone putrid too. My life's gone dingy and dark, Suffocated by polluted winter. Dark circles Tell stories Dreams can't remember. But ******* at least I'm still writing.