Off Course

I lost myself through the alleyways.

No path to follow, No destination to reach.

The sky was my canvas, with no moon in sight.

I knew I was robbed, but put up no fight.

I wandered; I stumbled but never fully recovered.

I had no wanting, no desire of any kind.

Fell headfirst in a pile of mush

Gut wrenching, soul taking sloppy slush.

I was no one. A shadow lurking the streets.

Looking for names. Not playing games.

In my hand, I hold a smoky friend.

Its feeble light, giving me strength.

The smoke darts through the frigid air

Mixing with smell of gasoline.

Companions who together create a blend.

A blend that takes a sickly cough out of me.

In the mush, I grow my roots.

A drag of Smoky, pure satisfaction.

I cozy up to the rotten fruit.

I am nonexistent, invisible, a true mute.