Walking the French quarter
with the Mississippi River next to me,
I don't think I knew what to think -
other than that it was all so new,
and I was in awe.
the Southern fauna,
so sweet and mesmerizing.
the streets flowed with life,
as the architecture towered together
above their heads.
how it gave some sort of mysterious
chill down my spine.

days before, drunk in a cab
riding through downtown
Chicago, "West Grand, please"
- I wondered if I was
feeling nothingness.

so i splash my face
with warm water
and walk outside,
door slams.
cause it hits,
like a ton of bricks,
that is when you
start to feel that
awful feeling of nothingness.

hours later,
buried under covers,
I am cozy laying by the
space heater.

death grips,
and shadows blend.
You lied to me.