Cigarettes

Cigarettes

and sunrise.

If only I woke up

that early,

A night of whisky

had taken me

down a betrayal

of self-doubt.

I became a beggar

of thoughts

Consumed

by the consumer

the Jack of all Trades

sitting in his rage

and I played

Trailing at his words

when I realized

the shift of tone.

Fell aloof

and I could not float

in the frantic thought

of escape.

I dove deeper

into proving

what I already know.

Dug my grave

of Worth

but another morning,

left mourned.

I may not rise with the sun

Instead climbed out

of my doubt

Deep in the dirt

Risen instead

from the ashes

of my bed.