3 AM.
Again.

Slouched below a railway arch,
bottle in hand,
desperate to extinguish the inferno inside,
as caustic rage
bubbles and spits like molten lava.

My splintered heart
is a furious volcano,
suppressed for years
and ready to erupt…

A coal train thunders past,
inches from my outstretched feet,
it’s deafening metallic roar
echoing off dank, crumbling brickwork.

Claustrophobic shadows
succumb to a jaundice moon,
it’s sickened yellow glow,
crawling over train tracks
and an ocean of broken glass.

My fragile mind is hypnotised
by the screams of a thousand ghosts…
Let me drown them in whisky,
until all I can hear
is silence.

So this is “life”?
There has to be more…
I fought,
I bled,
I survived,
For this?