City Sidewalks

I slog my worn-out feet from side to side picking up dead cigarettes, through city sidewalks while I wait for a release. Like the silhouette of things to come, cigarettes, like a corpse in a mortuary, lie stomped on kissed by the lips of others, addicts like me. My tired eyes, in search of sustenance to feed my withdrawals, follow the misery soaked into the sidewalk cracks and into the graffiti walls of the darkened alley streets. Aspirin or Tylenol can’t relieve the throbbing hammers pounding away. In my head, only the moment when my hunger is fed, will my affliction, for a split second be released. Can you feel it? It’s orgasmic, euphoric… I need it, I want it the rush as fast as it surges, is as fast as it’s gone. I live by it, for it’s my muse that lets me free. All knots that strangle me, unravel. It’s only for a minute of peace and by now it’s obvious to everyone, my eyes hide no secrets. "we’re fine," they whisper, "we’re great together," they mumble. I slog my worn-out feet from side to side through city sidewalks picking up dead cigarettes, 'til it's time for my next release.