there’s no one to miss me anyway

nose red and swollen from all the cocaine you got me addicted to

i’m stuck wandering these desolate streets

in 40 degree weather, it’s all i can do to keep

these flimsy ass clothes on my back

but i still can’t seem to hate you

maybe it’s the drugs or the cold

or the fact i’m still thinking about you

falling in and out of sketchy people with houses too full

of shadows

i don’t seem to mind the shit i got myself into

no house no bed no identity

or maybe i’m still a missing girl on a poster

it makes no difference to me anymore

nothing really does

relying on park benches with soft corners and

thrown out grocery store food

sometimes, a mattress comes with the drugs

but they're almost always trying to whore me off

my body nothing but a means to get more more more

and, being a beggar that chooses

i try to find the right words to put on this one good piece of paper

cause if i'm going to go i need something

to leave behind

not wanting to admit drugs were a temporary fix cause

i lived these last few months

feeling fixed

and

i guess that’s all that really matters.