It might be in the way
The buildings seem
to smile at each other
Or the way
The street lamps flicker
Hello
As you walk by.

Maybe it talks
To the small town
just south of the border
By way of the people
who come
and go.

Perhaps the spirit
Of a city
Flows through the power lines;
The grids of fire and lightning.
Maybe the lights are akin to life.

Maybe the city's mind-
Its complex, high-functioning brain
Lies underground.
Its neurons are the subways
Moving the people like so many thoughts.

Maybe the soul of a city lies
Within the people who dwell there.
The new ones that add to it
The ones who are just
Swallowed whole

Into the abyss
Of lights and life and love.

If the world
started to burn,
she might have just
let it.
    -- if only out of spite.

She would watch
the world
Burn in flame
And crumble
To naught but ash
Because then maybe, all
would finally
be
Equal.

Seeps into the soul;
An incurable nothing
Slips into the mind
    -- And Stays There

“My heart ached. These people were full of joy and happiness, and here I was, isolated; alone.

I was simply overlooked, they had no idea i was even there.

They didn’t know who i was.

     I wasn’t sure I did either

But in the end, did that even matter? Who or What you are?

I no longer thought it did.

But when did my opinion- what i thought- ever count?

No one else knew I was here … And for that I was glad; I did not want to speak with anyone.

I was filled with a certain kind of misery. The kind where guilt eats away at the soul; it devours the strength and darkens the light. It was the kind of feeling that fills you up, to the point where forgiveness can’t find its way through.”

She breathed into them,
The sound of it like a prayer-
Etched into your skin
With permanent ink.

What words
Were so important
That you had to remember them
In such a way?