the rain makes the asphalt look sad and pregnant.

i turn my head for one moment and a lonely 7 train skitters by, barely grazing my left ear. i close my eyes. i close my eyes because if you look, you get sad and that's how you lose. so i look down at my feet at the soft, shimmering asphalt instead

and i watch the train through the asphalt. it torpedoes by, one silver frame at a time, like a silent film still bobbing around in its chemical bath. i continue to watch, from a safe distance.

(its like looking out the window at the cars zooming by. its all fun and safe until you reach your hand out a bit too far and the next thing you know, some ******* car up and runs away with it.
its like marriage.)

except im in college and the wheels of the train never quite touch the ground, but hover, hover over like some kind of homeless intoxicated guardian angel stranded in a sprawling urban desert.

(he lies on top a one of those BigBellys, lies on his stomach, sandaled feet dangling just inches from the ground. blink blink, goes the BigBelly. Gabriel groans,
incomprehensible muttering)

and the train throws bleachy yellow squares of light throw themselves onto upon the pregnant asphalt in fits of just destructive laughter and when they hit the ground by that time they're already hugging themselves, hugging and shaking all over like fuuuuuuck, it's sooo cold in here (in my body!) each one of em murmuring in a foreign tongue about how someone keepzon etching street names into the bathroom walls

Thayer and Broadway at 3AM on a Wednesday morning is someone's oasis, mine for as long as i stand here, my mind stumbling back n forth from one airpod to the other as i feel like im sinking down, down into the soft squishy asphalt wit the weight of my backpack making my shoulders touch the floor wit my bleachy yellow head dangling from my neck as i blink needily / cravingly / searchingly at a sidewalk that stares back at me with the most deadest honest (to godest) blankest expression i ever seen on a no-body

and when i look into its eyes i can see myself but im standing in the  middle of Times Square and -- hey -- everythings looking up! but it cant be me because im here at Thayer and Broadway dangling my head and angling it AWAY from the passing train because if you look, you get sad, you think of home, and when you think of home, thats when you really know you've lost, not sure what but you've lost and you probably cant even actually go home after youve lost because, well, mother**** it you've lost and life just likes to call you a cuck and hit you in the throat like that

but i wouldn't know, i haven't gotten that far yet

Light,the heartbeat of the city
A thousand lights to show the way
An essence that surrounds our everyday
Where would we be without light?
An undertow,to the rhythm of life
What would happen if it all went dark?
No more spark,everything falls apart
No more trail,no more spark
Light,we take it for granted
But would we survive in the dark
The worlds already dark enough.

The moon phase rises over the naked city,
the inessential buildings soon just become nothing.

She walks the street with a beat in her step.
Hands cut from the rose thorns,
petals falling,
flowers dying.

She felt happy.
But misery laid nothing more less to the flowers.

Amongst the footsteps the cries could be heard.
The naked city wanted nothing more than to cover itself.
To hide behind plain sight.
It no longer wanted to be the city that filled everyone’s dreams,
the city that never slept.
It just lured for some time to shut it’s eyes,
to be nothing to this world.

To sleep.

The naked city was raw,
beautiful at most.
It had a unique glow,
kind of like the Moon.

It would just turn on and light up everyone’s night.
Make them want to write about it,
dine out.
Have the light gaze down on them.

It was somewhat.. magical.