hungry and cold he sits on the hard concrete his sleeves pulled over his hands as he shakes wishing he was somewhere else. The rain soothingly fell cresting calming sounds as it landed on the pavement around him

every day it’s the same wake up cold beg for money all day cold try and sleep cold then repeat.

hes a recovering addict…well without the recovery part. What’s the point in getting better when there’s no one to even see it he tells himself.

he’s hates his life and any time he has money he chooses booz instead of food cause the booz is the only thing taking the pain away. He just wants the pain away.