I've spent many years trying to understand those who cannot love. So strange to a man who accepted emotion as his salvation. Yet they appreciate my company. As I go about leaving I can feel it, they want me to stay.
I’m sitting down in the shack
Hoping to find heat
It’s there, but barely. As if my imagination has met me halfway.
Optimism is there, but barely. Growing stronger as I leave this place
With leering metal trees draped in neon lights
Hunched figures proving they still live
I can see their breath, strange for a May night
The scene overall was the twilight zone
Under the stars and along the main strip lies oddly placed statues
They coil around the bus benches like snakes who found warmth and froze
These statues have become intertwined with the neon branches thrown to the ground in consumer culture
I selfishly think about myself and how vulnerable I’d feel sleeping in a bus shack
In a downtown that never really sleeps, just simply closes its eyes for a few hours and abruptly wakens
Feverish and hungry
For money and power
Yet this is no capitalist manifesto
I’m just a young man currently in transit
And as I head away from the city core to my mirage fueled suburban bliss
I know that I’m torn between this writing and real life
I’ve been speaking to the oddly placed statues
Oh, how far am I from my first kiss?
To be so caught up in this.
It’s been some time now
Yet I still find myself in transit
Will I see you?
d.r
“Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses,blood sacrifices,steeples,mosques,races,armies, flags,nations,in order to deny the fact of death, which is the only fact we have”
James Baldwin
