it's friday.

the sun comes up but it's not as hot.
the smoke goes in but it only feels like it's actually starting to kill me.
the sky holds blue & the grass stays greener but i don't see in color.
it's been 23 days & just as many hours & i'm elementary again.
running short on food.
i don't eat it anyway.
fingers are thin.
reeds drying out & howling in the wind.
heavy though.
oh so heavy.
like ten little anchors dropping fast to sandy floors.
i used to breath underwater.
i realize i'm just a man now.
the salt & sting is fast.
does it's best to be elegant & polite
but how sophisticated can you be when you're forcing your way in?
past lock & key.
through steel doors & prison bars.
passing vomit & evicted tenants on it's way
& never ever stopping to apologize or offer better solutions.
it's 8:47.
or 9:47.
or 10:47.
or 3:47.
wherever you are, it's 48 past the hour
& you are awake.
stealing & dealing the best you can.