Scumbag Drops

You owe is the only thing that seems to be the only thing that returns to my thought process. Reminding me like the snooze on an alarm clock. You owe people money, you owe money to bills, you owe time to your family, you owe.
Owing is not new to me. I've been down as long as I can remember. Sweetly curious of what it might feel like to have "money to spare". What might it feel like to give to money to the homeless? Or possibly I should be thinking of making my own sign and sitting next to that "bum" that I pass everyday?
The number thirteen bus zooms by screeching it's normal screeches. Thanks for reminding me number thirteen. I had almost forgot where I was going in the first place. Seems I get deeper and deeper into being a scatter brain these days. Today is the day I regret every week. Sometimes twice a week is business is well. Well now I am broke and it must be done. The sidewalk gets narrower as I turn the second left on Fifth street. I can see Marcus' house from here now. Swallowing pride I stumble past a few junkies into his front door. Need to re-up I announce to his "posse". this part always makes me feel like a scumbag.
Pockets empty and baggies full it begins. Selling drugs, so I can make my homeless situation a little more comfortable. It shouldn't last forever.