Orange skylines with
Copper inconsistencies,
Cobbled pavements
Converging, at odd angles,
Stepped on
By fairytale homes
And tourist feet,
Almost, just almost,
Drowning out the violins
And the voices,
Almost making me forget
That Europe isn’t home,
Somehow.

Addiction
     never ends,
          temptation and sin.

Consumption,
     and then I’m lost.

Drowning,
     floundering,
          gasping for air.

Count the days
     until I feel alright again.

But my addiction
     betrays me
          and with one glance
               at a shard of glass
                    I relapse.
23 times—
     a redemption to make up for
          time lost.