Saturday Morning Cartoons

I remember

Saturday morning cartoons,

unreturned kisses,

unfulfilled love,

imaginary dances danced

under imaginary moons,

lovers who never knew,

futures planned

without a chance,

messages sent

but never received,

even now,

I still remember

cold city streets,

dark and empty,

calling out,

I go there sometimes

on nighttime journeys,

traveling among the living

and the dead,

always waiting,

never knowing,

forever seeing,

I hear their anger,

I touch their fear,

I see their rage,

like trapped animals

with no escape,

slashing out

with the only power

they possess,

the only pleasure

they know,

the cold steel blade

sliding in to the bone,

the warm sweet liquid

flowing out onto the

concrete world.

.

.