Sniff

Rummage in the pile of dirty laundry
Drag a filthy T-shirt, fluorescent puce
A shade of green that's downright offensive
Shake it out, sniff it, recoil
Put it on anyway.

Walking a fine line, sniffing a thicker line
Always teetering at the brink of addiction
Edgy, nervy, faint at heart and swimming head
Sneaking down the back stairs cradling stolen rum
Writing messages to the dead.

Eyes glazing to trip-hop and sad folk
Ignoring Pink Floyd, NIN and Johnny Cash
Lyrics fraught with memories
Pushing away places that hurt to return to
Bottles beckon me to a blackness
If I can't see it maybe
I'll believe it's not real.