The inside of my nostrils burn
tears mistaken as drops of
salt water drip down my cheeks
as if I should be waiting for someone to catch them.
But amidst the dampness
walls marked in desperation
cries for someone to take notice.
Words and shapes colored
spread out
dancing with song.
Look how wonderful I am.
Messages strewn across anything
that can hold the powerfulness of survival.
In forms so fierce they penetrate the thickness that I mistake as air
I can breathe.
Beds made of anything that can cover the concrete slabs
called sidewalks.
Shredded, smelly, cardboard
half used
still better than the nothingness of what might be.
Closets of clothes worn on top of one another
for fear there may be none.
Sleep always with one eye open for it’s not only
the rats which might come to pay a visit
Knotted hair and rotting teeth it’s often hard times not alcohol that brings them to this
makeshift home.
Is there any difference? Opioids or crack?
Seems mistakes are made
thinking there is a right side of the track.
In the end all that matters is.
In death
the final escape
our bodies all do the same damn thing.
Across the street splatters of left over hate
not even yellow tape to mark
the importance of who was.
Who was?
Does it end without matter
coldness a question of color ?
Dare there be no mention that they were a member of the human race.