Title

You can travel in time
Every day
I travel in time
I hear a song, I am twenty-two
a darkened room
mirrors on the wall
my own breath steaming up into the ceiling, a cigarette in an ashtray
thoughts of dying.

Something is wrong,
something is very wrong
that’s what it feels like

I am twenty-one
walking out of a tube station in a dirty London suburb
chip fat in the air, punching me in the face,
an old coat that’s two sizes too small