I walk home from la gare d’autocars. On rue Sainte-Catherine junkies eye me like predators do prey. Bums sleep under the awning of an expensive department store. Across the street a woman falls from a rented bike and groans. I wait out the rain smoking a cig, watching it all. Sunday morning.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
Comments
Post a Comment