I'm screaming for this place to wake up. F***ing wake up. The cold air stings my cheeks and nose, but I'm still here. I see your perfect house with your perfect yards, and I know your perfect children sleep in their perfect sheets and they're perfectly warm. If I could put my cigarette out on your existence, I would. Leave a scar on your neck that never leaves. I always see you stare but your stares aren't even menacing, they just remind me of the nothing my life could be. You're the ordinary possibility I never want to become. You're not awake or alive. I wish I could look into your eyes now and scream for you to wake up but you're so far gone, I'm not sure you can hear me. This whole city is gone but I'm left behind. Wake up and feel. Am I the only one awake?
November 22, 2011