NY Streets

Hosts of lonely souls coast through the streets

feel like desperation when I breathe deep

just trying to keep up with fast feet

if I stop my mind will catch thoughts that creep around my sleep

I am the gaping hole after the tower’s destruction

nothing but blood and hollow exoskeleton

hot to the touch so I must still be alive

But how could anything have survived

buch a vicious blow was so unexpected

It took my hope, structure, foundation when it crash landed

the phoenix reborn among these swaying rooftops

shake off ash and debris

where my heart beat stops is the location of the excavation

Dig me a new soul that’s not half-empty

with repatriation, false devotion, love and harmony

rebuild me in your eyes as how I’m meant to be

In memory of those who continue to die all around me

in these streets, malleable like hot leaded fingers

that grab at son’s sneakers

pushing him to the edge

the city barely gets by on integrity

push him inside, it’s dark down here

Broken back and crumpled spirit

I am the hole in the chest of concrete that can’t be fixed

Sublime in its suckiness

Does that make me beautiful as I coast through the city’s mist

brushing off unhappiness as the sun peeks from behind stratus clouds

ashy smoke bags hazy in their existence

as they hang in the sky over us

the sounds of sirens unheeded

so we burn our city to the bone with our music

The absence of those well-acquainted with the night

leave holes in already unfulfilled souls

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