“today.
today is the international day of your life.
who
are
you?”
the guy
on the radio said.

****. it was winter cold.
the city was in chaos. was quietly sad.
the guy from the radio
was just a voice
and who he was
who anybody was
wouldn’t matter at all.
everybody would look for some
despair that night.
some ugly pleasure.

for me,
it was alcohol
to suppress my thoughts
and loud music
to reaffirm that ****.