sugar cubes at piccadilly circus

people look

me in the eye

and just cry and

gosh

i am so weak and little

in the face of all your pain.

i would give you my heart

and

i freeze on the stairs

of the piccadilly circus station,

changing lines.

little white sugar cubes

dust the floor around

my feet and i cannot

move i cannot breathe

i step on one ( i am so so sorry )

the crack under

my foot is loud

and deafening and

sounds like a

bone breaking at the hands of

someone else.

in another world

i am

on my knees

picking up every sugar cube -

harvesting some sweetness -

keeping something charming and

edible

about all of this,

putting it in

your pockets

and articulating through

something more than words,

giving you something more than words

something more than i have.

i have such little, such little for

you, for these monolithic pains,

i am like a sugar cube to be stepped on.