Outside

Watching the yellow, blue and green lights
twinkling,
and black merging with marshmallow clouds.
Drunk,
with the city
dying slowly beyond.

Trees
like ancient, scarecrow sentinels
lurk below,
their branches glowing
from the electricity of night.
All is silent, darkened
with red, pulsating lights of a dreaming city
to beckon the lonely ones-
like me.
Awake,
drunk,
alone,
unknowing of a face to conjure
or trust.
Relying on substances,
and simple perfection
to fulfill me.

I see others live their lives,
oblivious of me,
and my writing of them.
Maybe somewhere out there,
someone, tonight,
is writing about me.