All around, you see and taste the lives of other people you won’t ever come close to. With your hands in your pockets breathing in mouthfuls of dead air, you look at the ground because to look at the sky means questions and you don’t have the answers so what’s the point. Sometimes you go out of your way to be close to them. To try and feel what it’s like to be part of the ebb and flow of life, but it doesn’t come naturally, so head down and hands in pockets it is. The whole world is a mess of past and future trauma, littered with symbols and hidden meaning you can’t decipher no matter how hard you try. Each and every day a maze. Each footstep, an act of rebellion against something that more than likely will turn out to be nothing. It’s all so terribly dreadful, and yet you’re hungry, and when you’re hungry everything seems so bleak and without hope. Best to find a burger van and fill your belly and soul with the wonders of food. Maybe wash it down with a can of cherry Coke, too, for this works the same magic as the mouth of a lover. Which lover? The one you keep secret. The one that’s with you at all times in all places. By your side and in your mind. A second skin. A second heart to keep you safe from harm. Opening your purse, you take out a handful of coins and give them to some greasy man selling his greasy burgers. You grab some chips as well, and when you find a bench to eat your meal, you watch the world continue its dance. You’re still removed, but at least you don’t feel so shitty now, and when you wash down the junk with your can of cherry acid, a wry smile places itself upon those lips of yours. You’re a long way from home, and the streets are full of perverts, but the night offers so much possibility. As a stray cat sniffs you out and waltzes on over, you lean forward and throw him a chip. What a treat for him, and what a sight for you as he gobbles it in one swift gesture. It didn’t even touch the sides, and my oh my, how that smile of yours spreads and shines to all those nearby.