Ground littered
with Newport butts
Laceless sneakers
Last nights beer
Early morning
Only me
White skin
They stare.

I ride along the bus route
The weight shifts as people climb on
The smell of half burnt cigarettes
Of sweat and fried food
I struggle to keep my lips together
I hold on to my seat; knuckles white
As I look for alleyways to sleep
If I could leap out of my life.