At dawn the sun in retreat, made the skyline look like crooked teeth

I braved treacherous streets, kids strung out on homemade speed

A glimse of fear in his dead eyes

Deap fear, always marking her thouhgts. Knocking inside of her head. Her frightened cold hands, longing to hold his. His big, uncolored, weak hands. Safe and warm, never let go. Stay forever.

Her eyes rain in with him, every day. Her cold small hands lying on his fagged shoulder as he crashes to the floor. They might seem small, but the truth is they’re stronger than any power, for him.

The hope remainds with the fear