Solder

The smell of burned flesh, a jackhammer ripping through your heavy breaths and he tells you the price but at least he lets you swear as much as you want. Your boss sends you texts late into the night; you sleep with one eye open and you never meant to.

You stand alone on the platform with a toothache and shivering skin. November has been mild, so far, the sun shone today and I walked with my jacket open. It doesn't help. I'm falling apart all over the place.

And all I want to do is cry.