Evolution Of A Day Poem by Sal III

Away from home, unproductive as usual. Only this time I don't have people breathing down my neck telling me 'times a wastin''. Like I didn't know that..
An old beat up gym bag contains my entire wardrobe, the same ripped jeans and scuffed up shoes. Lets not forget a few plain white t-shirts stained at the armpit. A piece of my psyche makes this lifestyle a little difficult to maintain. but the combination of booze and grass conjures up a thousand excuses before I can make any positive change.
I'm weak, you're strong.
After a few days the alcohol begins to seep through the pores of my skin, reminding my wandering mind that im still human and that showers are a necessity. The time spent in the shower proves to be more efficient than a shrink. Head against the shower wall with water massaging my scalp and trickling down my shoulders and back, showers never felt so good. I exit and the cold air slaps me something fierce, slightly killing my buzz. I don't feel numb anymore.

I wonder how my mothers doing?