Do you know
What these eyes have seen?
I'm not going out
There.
The bodies lie on
Concrete,
Surrounded by the
Litter of emergency
Repair.
The faces of
Strangers,
Tormented by
Their ventures out
There.
How can you sell
The idea of
Fresh air,
When I've
Seen it exhaled in
Despair?

I am not unified.
Solidarity will
Not protect my throat.
It will not block
A raging car.
Or a backpack
Full of nails.
So, call me:
Agoraphobic.
I'm just
Scared.