Hiding in a cafe with another beer, I escaped a better fate and wanted to be no one.

The anger that broke me was still inside, all it needed was a drink.

I threw away half my life to hurt my father.

I slice ginger, boil water, and purge the poison and dismay.

I never knew I was poor until it was too late to do much of anything about it.

 And just like that, I did nothing.

Sex ended far too soon, with much of life ahead of me.

 All I sought was oblivion and ecstasy, an endless round of indulgence, but in my poverty I ended up with drudgery and pain.

Something in me broke again, as I looked at the wreck of my life.

Lost in a world of my own, ignored and going deeper.