When I go

When you find me, and you will, please cover me with something warm. I can't ever seem to find a way to warm myself. I have holes in my socks, there are just always holes, but I have one pair in my bag that I never wear, because I know that someday you will find me and I want to have socks without holes. I can't figure out why this is so important. There is the possibility that I will have wasted away to nothing, that you won't have seen nor heard from me in some time, there will be dirt and grime, bottles and cans, there will be one light bulb left, casting deep shadows throughout the room. Those are my shadows, don't take them from me by raising the shade. In the wee hours of the morning I would hide in those shadows, those were the last places with-in which I could find comfort and solace. The fear and desperation are nearly overwhelming. I know that the end is near, closer than even I know.

I can't stop here, as much as I might want to. The choice was gone so long ago, that distant memory faded in the last of the fallen snow. Outside the window I could see the glint of frost against the cold concrete. I understand that concrete, in a way that others might not. The weight of the world lay upon it's weary shoulders, yet there is not a soul to cry out to.

This is not where I should have gone, I knew this wasn't the place. How many times had you said just that, and the fell of deaf ears.

Don't bring her here with you. If for some reason she arrives, please I beg of you to clean up the remnants. I don't want her to get hurt, and there are needles on the floor under the bed.

I am sober today...but he has died