Out in the Cold

Huddling against the wall, not for support, but for comfort of concrete. A street brittle with silence. Sleep glues the eyes. Mouth stale with dryness. Limbs stiff from stillness. Reminders of the hours trickle by with waiting, wanting. The night so dark but for the lone street light casting a moon on the pavement.

vengeance seethes teems grows
consuming all in its path
leaving empty shell