by dhhfbfrbjds

Created on: September 15, 2008

He leant on the counter;
as though,
left to its own devices,
his own body would crush him.

Look at all these,
the Happy People,
cares are but dreams in their starlit eyes',
he thought with a mixture of envying disgust and disgusting envy.
He glanced at himself
in the glass of his own consciousness
and another grimace of loathing past across what could have been a pretty face.

He leant back down,
crooked to the bar,
took a drag on his death stick
and with the help of the vodka
went about trying to fix the problem.

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