My Autobiography

I wrote this one on my back, i was under attack from the falling dusk.
now it's a bust. what you see inside
of me, isn't quite what i wrote in my autobiography.but it's what you see.

now spring couldn't get much worse, &the sun is a curse shooting frozen rays, in my place. &i'm left here all alone, in the cold on my bed in the afternoon while i compose my autobiography.