The City

As you glide through.
Alone; You're suffocating. 
Drowning in this sea of chaos.
Reach out to them-
Your Audience?
Feelings of unimaginable lost-
From people you don't even know.
Scream- Your lungs are golden harps.
Stroke the roots of trees-
Your burgundy DNA-carries on.
But, this is your dilemma.
I hope it makes you tremor.
For your words go unspoken.
Unheard to the masses.

And when your world turns to black,
From everything you lack.
Just quote to them from books you read-
How to think and how to be.
For you're safe.
In these age stained pages.
These wood creaking closets
Cradle your precious scapegoats. 
You exhale with every turned page.
Keeps you from stalking the studded streets.
Visible by flickering lights.

You lie awake for years-
So synthetic.
Your eyes scream for something-
More epic.
All your fears are multiplied.
But your life becomes more defined-
At the age of twenty-nine.
So sleep.
Continue to sweep these New York streets.
Your city. Your nightmare. 

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life_used_to_be_lifelike's picture

just wanted to say I have

just wanted to say I have read a couple of your pieces and I am hooked. I really like your style, its gripping, its heart grabbing, and intense. I hope to see more. 

"It is a terrible thing to be so open. It is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world" -- Sylvia Plath.

EvieTravieAllie's picture


Oh wow, thanks :)

I'll keep them coming