artist, poem, poet, poetic, poetry, san francisco artist, words, writer

Lone City

 

You wake up to the city sounds and the hustle
The cold connections and the big talk bustle
late nights and loveless love making
Making babies you can’t afford
Frequent visits to the local clinic
Missing visits to your shrink
As you lose count of the days that pass you by
from drinking malt liquors and getting high
Staying up all night to witness the sun rise from the river
and the fog to fade away from the bridge by only your eyes
You don’t know what’s next
No goals made to progress
But he gave you his number
So call him up for sex
your bed is cold
and the only feeling left is when his dick slides inside you
Loveless love making is only temporary
Loveless love making is what you seek for therapy
Disregarding your body as a temple
When your soul is a gaping hole
City of darkness — concrete
Nothing is ever as it seems
In the city of lights and dreams

 

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