Hand to Mouth

By the crowded garage
Adjacent a strip of stores
The puddle put out a cigarette
I was without a jacket
Or hooded sweatshirt
In the dense rain, under grey skies
You insisted we had pure bliss
Does that ring true in this abyss?
Does this really seem like
How we should persist?
Running blindly with our
Heads bowed to our feet
Living hand to mouth
Like fist to jaw
It pains and grinds
And cuts and bruises
Far from the look you see
When I force a smile