It is the City Of Angels, but only devils brood here. They draw new blood everyday. This is what dark hearted cities like Los Angeles offer. I was an angel once, but the devils breathe smoky strife. Their obnoxious breath infects the plumbing and pollutes the air. I am here; never immune. The infection spreads from one person to the next. As each betrays the other, dystopian angst frisks our bodies - it sets in, a virile mix. Love is lost. Another empty vessel emerges into day from the depths of unrequited love.
We are here; Stripped bare, beaten up, hearts set firmly in ice. We drive in heated traffic, scratching at the walls that surround us, at our isolated existence. Anger sets in. It burrows deep into our flesh impregnating our bodies with unhappiness. LA promised. That’s what it does best, it promises; fulfillment. We were moths to the flame, we never had a chance. I am a remnant, left in the fire to burn to ash. Not knowing what to make of the evil devices against us, we hide in protective crevices, which avail nothing. We are bloodied by the dawn.