The pale light of
billboards and office windows
light up this city.

Between flashes of headlights
and gunshots,
we make ourselves at home
in concrete beds.

Sleepless, because we're hoping
- maybe -
this way we won't have to
wake up to tomorrow.

I find myself,
just a face in a crowd
looking at the empty sky
and waiting,
breathing, and hoping
I won't drown, that
I'll wake up tomorrow
and be a little more myself.

A little more like
someone I can recognize,
in this cold, grey 'heaven',