i stood there, wet,
staring at the falling water drips,
soaking my shirt,
damping my frozen fingers.
i was shivering.
straight ahead me
painted a number on a block,
201.
you might forget,
but,
we once agreed how ugly the font was.
it was the same setting,
i peeped at people in their houses,
moving and playing,
but i wasn’t talking this time,
i was lost in my own drama,
it was so quiet that
i could hear him stroking her hair
and the smell of pizza through the glasses.
the waiter,
she was so happy,
and i wonder if she really is.
this tune was playing in my shuffle,
and i close my eyes,
just to feel you near me,
i came out with all excuses,
to forgive the anger,
to forget the done,
and to bake some dreams
somehow
i was too wide awake,
to be dreaming,
over and over again.
the magic stops.
it stop working,
so much that
i began bleeding.
