Street Walker

I haven't tried my hand at poetry (at least not publicly) in over a year. Let's see what happens.

Once the sun sets, this city has a way
of wrapping you in her arms--
Cold and dark as they might be
They keep you warm in the sort of
way frostbite does--
chilling you from the inside first, so
you become so damaged that heartbreak
and love are one in the same,
the line between tomorrow and yesterday
fades, and before you know it…
…you're being warmed in the arms of
some ex-lover, knowing that for your
own good you shouldn't be there because
Soon enough
You're packing up
And leaving
For some other city.
Just as cold, just as dark, just as much there
for you,
Except you might know a couple of people.