In tough times he will breastfeed on disease and manage to hide his teeth. Swapping syringes and bad decisions. This is his golden age. A suburb that he knows. A disgrace that stalks the streets. It's said he preys on the weak. A slave to deceit. If he could prevail in shutting his eyes he'd only see himself inside out.
** I'll wash their stained bodies, then paint with charcoaled hands. Once bright eyes fading out.