Hotel

He watches 

Is he caught in the rain or blinded by the floodlights? 

The neon wires burn his gaze, spelling out hotel 

The wind cuts through his trench coat, encasing his body and mind in an icy glaze,

But his heart is at peace. 
There’s no need to turn back now he thinks as he lies awake, the neon red lettering tearing through the sheer curtains and penetrating his mind yet again,

But he is safe now, and the neon cannot hurt him. 

emi_art_now

NY

15 years old

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