The city is an infectious disease.
We all know this.
Filled with strangers, used coffee cups,
and a whole community of rats thriving in the MTA subway system.
Every day, there are hundreds of other people in this building
with unaddressed ulcers and probably deep-rooted psychological issues.
Maybe god counts us by the apartment lights
that blink off as the evening fades to night,
last to discover all the lights that remain on
due to domestics, insomnia, and great sex,
before god themself succumbs to the luxury of sleep.
We all know this.
we are all aware of the sickness.
Yet many choose to stay.
For the one night stands,
the job placements,
the skate parks,
the dollar pizza,
the open mics.
We swarm to it,
like rats in the subway.
We endure
because you’re never more alive
than when you’re almost dead.
To & From the Void 