Swansea Council have broken me.
 

The crack-tiled shower rains,
Spitting water down bruised shoulders.
Brittle bones, tired eyes.
One more morning,
Waiting to greet the sun
With my vacant glare.
Mind floating away like driftwood
Down an endless river.
Blessings on this Ill-gotten shed,
These crack-stone walls,
This cold-brick bed,
Sunlight hiding under the window-pane,
Passing by this place another day,
One God-damn night of Sleep,
Forgotten Pleasantries,
This home was built to break me,
To melt my spirit,
Indulge my suffering,
Frost-bitten walls
For the dirt to crawl over.
Given my chances I'd sleep forever.