Crimson eyes shine in the dark;
shaped like morning.
Shake the cobwebs from the fourth
corner of my mind.
Shuffle through the debris
on the nightstand,
searching
for the days first cigarette.
Open the window for a breath;
drawn deeply.
Run my fingers across the scars
on the headboard.
Just like yesterday
and the day before;
for luck
and the hope of repeating it.