Yellow

Withdrawals lead to overdose which lead to withdrawals which lead to

preoccupation with lightning over the Adriatic Sea. 

All of this is very new to me. 

(Last week the sky above Dresden was fever-dream blue and 

it was the end of the world. 

My feet are bleeding. The city is bleeding. 

The girl who sits next to me is bleeding and weeping in a language I do not know.

She must know it’s the end of the world. 

There was bated breath and Berliner boots.) 

My Europe is yellow. It exists in un-stamped passports and Instagram posts.

The city lights are stars. The stars are streetlights. 

They shine yellow and yearn for the absence of pain 

but instead turn inside-out for a lack of chemical contentment.

(‘Bring me the strongest painkillers. I want to deep fry my brain and eat it, too.’) 

On the way to the Adriatic Sea is a highway headed straight for the sky.

A street sign warns of tumbling stars.