.
Here, as the dark city glistens,
rain pelts unsuspecting sidewalks,
filling cracks and running gutters
Disguising potholes in black,
snickering as they wait silently
to startle the next drowsy driver to pass by
Neon reflects in puddles of discontent
while high rise lights
flicker in kitchens above where
cold water seems to be the answer
as groggy eyes fiddle with leftover decisions
making more noise than can be heard
3 am, desolate, just a few cats
rummage in alleys for unsuspecting rats
and other rodents who have sold their dreams
for a temporary high, plastic bag desires
that come morning will seek revenge
as hands once more will be out promising redemption,
counting brown leather wing tips and Prada heels
I stop at the old library slated for demolition,
tracing the lopsided heart with our initials
that I carved into the brown brick
as you kept a look out so we wouldn’t get caught
Laughing at the dust that gathered on my shoes,
Telling me it would be forever
not the dust, us
(the dust is still there)
Lonely is a state of mind
for those who stagger these concrete caverns,
unable to sleep
Finding opened eyed nightmares
resemble those that they now run from,
hoping the next corner holds the key
to the past when nights were spent
under warm covers, in soft arms,
not walking alone, not dying, not
here, as the dark city glistens
Ok, I know I got a little dark throughout the day but I promise, this will be the last for now and I'll go back to love poetry tomorrow. :)