Walking back last night,
numb fingers, last cigarette;
darkness in her room.

Snow falls,
all day long, work;
night time, alcohol.

exuent?

Neon lights
and fast cars.
Neon
lights
and
fast
cars.

Neon,
neon,
neon
everywhere.

Where are the stars?
Clouds?
Neon?
Lights?
And fast
cars?

Walking through
the madness of civilisation
I look for exits
every minute,
for a place to
jump,
for a place to
breathe,
for a place to
sit,
to seek,
not riches,
sparkling diamonds,
papers that certify
my intelligence,
or lack thereof,
just a small nook
where I can talk
and listen,
where I can
breathe
and wish
for no more
neon
lights
and
fast
cars.