Boston Notes: Day 1

Stranger in a Stranger Land

Out of place in my own footsteps, walking strange pavements where I've pissed, puked, cried and wailed epics to the sky, this used to be me, this used to be mine, now it is a strange town with a curiously bleak skyline, all money and no gain, I'm taking bullets every moment to my pride, where am I? Where am I from and why? Where do I belong?

I am somewhere, but it is only because I have to be; as thin as I can make myself, I still take up space somewhere.

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