Downtown diaspora.

I chew these sour stories and spit them from my mouth.

Perpetually projected upon the dark of my eyelids,
the diagonal streetlamps cast shadows down the blurred lines of
West North's neon corridor.

Distant ghosts cry out as they begin to fade away
the names and faces I can no longer quite recall.

Tell us, was it really all for nothing?

Were we not angels tempted by the careless fires of hell?

Were we merely orphaned children needing to belong,
finding comfort and hope in
one another's likewise
unspoken
resignation?

Look at us now:
Downtown diaspora.

Post traumatic and
moving on like they told us
we had no choice but
to
do.

I whisper to the intangible silence of no one
I loved you all completely and
I love you all completely
still.