Taxis

Maybe this is where I live,

In the back of taxis, eyes glowing red.

On my way home, to nothing new.

I can’t wait to go to bed, and take off my shoes.

Sitting beside an empty seat, looking at the city streets;

Breathing in the thick wet air,

Chicago is glowing, like craters on the moon,

Meet me there?

1:00 am; music surrounding, familiar tunes.

I like to think we’ll stay friends,

There are many other things I like to pretend.

Please someone send for me,

When the inevitable weight of loneliness takes place.

Where else would I stay? Marching up my entry way,

Unloved or unreachable? A silly thing to think.

A worse thing to say.

Wishing of a love I’d probably send away.

While begging for it to choose me, to stay.

In my bed, I listen to the rain.

Racing down each of my window panes.

Sometimes I feel like I’m going insane.

I think it's time for me to go to bed.

To quiet these thoughts that swim in my head,

I think of us, even only as friends.