The lines in between the green are full of dirt and human feces, but I find comfort.
  Yellow, bright as the sun, but they don't blind me.
  Red, hot with anger and hate, but they don't burn me.
  Grey, fading to a dim, cold, colorless stone and yet is still my silver lining

The Overpass
Boys get high

and pass the warmth

vivid and bright.

Living surfaces surround them-

 spray paint
 history
under the overpass.



They were nigh new members

a nation of addicts.

Here recruitment was rampant

where friends went to try

and they broke-

chemically chained

under that overpass.



In the summer

strange souls pressed together

to ****, to love, to grow,

a maiden voyage

hailed by the night
inhaling the night

under that overpass.



If ever you get high

and look for something more

it’s right there

under that overpass.



Behind the weedy grass and paint

a blue door waits.

Bones litter the escape-

to a new world.

Pass out of  this lif
e
and lay before it.
Release yourself,

enter paradise

under that overpass.

pictures and cards
tears and hugs
this is what they call the end

but it is not
for in my heart
i have your names written in pen