Never knew vacation
Nothing to lose
Here alone
Born alone
Never knew family
Never knew money
Never knew anything new
Clothes that don't fit
Sneakers with holes
Getting home with my feet and socks and pants legs soaking wet
Peeling them off
Feeling the dryness of the greasy matted rug
And the ripped sofa with the dryfoam stuffing
That feels like the sound of nails on chalkboard
It disgusts me
But it's dry and soft
It absorbs some of my hardness
And I'm resting for awhile
The struggle is gone
Here is my vacation
I wonder
Should I feel pleasure?
Because I'm breathing?
And because at the moment I'm not hungry?
Should I be happy?
What choice do I have?
Anti-depressants?
To become some smiling idiot?
Content in my cave?
With my wooden spoon and tin pot?
Curling up in a linenless pillowless bed
With just an old knotted-fiber bargain store blanket?
Clothes that I grew out of
But still grow into
And out of?
Walking down the street
My ankles are chilled
As wind sweeps past them
The wind catches my sleeves
And shivers my soul
My heart grows cold
Thirty years of this
Thirty years of survival
Of spending every effort
On bread and water
Survival imprisons me
I want to be free
--lyrics and all music by matthew john mortimer
