he wasn't sleeping much
his body was telling him to.
his eyes were most often
red and sunken
and he walked in waking sleep and
his joints creaked and cracked
and he moved very slowly.
he had taken up smoking three weeks since and
by now he was
cuddled in the strong paternal arms of addiction.
his voice was getting lower, gravelly, and his nails were
yellow and long,
his hair unkempt and he walked the streets at night
and felt like he was running from
something or someone
that he knew quite well.