City of Broken Dreams

   I walk down Peoria, the wind cold against my skin and my heart heavy with the sadness its carried since love turned into a lie. I still see you every time I close my eyes, still hear your voice ringing in my ears like the dissapearing dreams of a life that I imagined.

  My arms are covered in bruises and hard lumps from where I missed the vein while shooting up. Nothing pisses off a junkie like missing his last hit. I have maybe 20 cents worth left and it takes at least twice that for me to even notice a difference.

  Aurora, at least for me is a city of broken dreams, the purgatory im sent to whenever I fuck up whatever life I managed to build for myself.

 I look around me and see neglected apartments, run down stores and gas stations, the city loud with people and cars. A man asks me for a light I offer my bic to him, he lights his cigarette and hands it back to me.

 I am glad that you cant see me now, I look like hell, I feel like hell, and I think maybe I am in hell.