on roxas street

I sit in the hard cemented street. The orange sodium lights continue to irritate my eyes as I smell the intoxicating smell of asphalt and the stench of the huge canal. Roxas Street.

No cars, no people, no dogs. Just me. Walking and walking. Not a five-peso coin to ride me in the end. I want to delay my time. Delay the time. Delay…

I treasure the lonely walk. With no one but my many selves. The twenty me argue and agree. I can never tell. I walk endlessly. I walk alone but not alone.

Where is she and her sweet talk. Where are they? The invisible stars smile behind the dreary clouds. I cannot wait for them. No more.

My feet ache. My stomach grumbles. The sun sleeps. I remain awake. I remain walking.

Walking until the end of Roxas Street.

Tags: ache, alone, awake, feet, me, poor, prose, roxas, self, sleep, stomach, street, twenty, write