The 4 a.m. World

        I look down at the 4 a.m. world, at the lone man walking down the street. I want to scream out and let him know that he's not alone, although he thinks he is. However the world is quiet, so I remain silent, perched several stories above my lone man. I watch him disappear around the corner. The steam lifts off the city pavement as it would to the inside windows of any car parked on a bluff. It's been hot these last few days, and the trees are starting to wilt. I look around me, at the building surrounding my window. I reach out and touch the brick, wanting to feel some sort of stability. The piece of rock comes off easily to my touch and crumbles between my painted fingernails. How can something so strong and steady be so easily destroyed? I wondered. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I already knew the answer to that. I found tears welling in my eyes; however, I wiped them quickly and angrily away.
        "Don't let go until I'm ready to forget." I repeated, my words dripping with spite. I still didn't fully understand what he meant by that. I guess he didn't want to be hurt, like I was hurting now. But I couldn't pretend to be someone I'm not anymore. I guess he finally saw past the mask. Saw that I wasn't the figure he had placed on top of that pedestal. I wasn't some porcelain goddess without a tiny flaw. I was damaged goods, a bruised banana. I guess he wanted a different kind of fruit. But then again, I'd get sick of bananas after a while too. Damnit, I'm incoherently babbling again. Damaged. What exactly did that mean? He had asked me so naively, on a day that seemed like any other.
        "Damaged means I'm not Suzy Q. America with blonde hair and blue eyes and apple pie in the back of my throat." I had answered.
        I laughed now at my stupidity. There I was, trying to be all poetic and meaningful, when he had plans in his head. I was trying to make one of those teenage soap opera moments, trying to make him see the error in his ways and sweep me off my feet. However, I failed to realize that life is not a movie, nor was it an hour-long teenage drama. And the next morning I walked into class to find him sitting next to Sheila Blooser, Blowjob Blooser had stolen my boyfriend from me. Bitch.

        I watch the shadows of the wind blown trees dance on the empty pavement below the street lamps that illuminate the broken dreams of the hooker on the stoop and the piss of the drunken bum on the corner. She snaps her gum and twirls her perfect hair around her acrylic nails. Her stilettos make a gentle tap-tap-tap that echoes throughout the empty street. A car pulls up and she slinks over to it. She pushes her butt out behind her and places her breasts on the edge of the rolled down window. After a few minutes of idle chat and price wagering, she gets in the car and it drives off. He snores as his left foot twitches. When the car drove away and left exhaust in his face, he coughed, turned the other way, and fell back asleep, his bottle rolling off the corner and into the gutter.
        Hmmm. Corner sounds like coroner. I shook my head, hoping that my morbid thoughts would fly out my window. I pondered my last observation for a moment. It's four in the morning and I feel so nostalgic and poetic without having anything to be poetic about. I mean, piss? That's hardly poetic.

        "It's so easy to lie to someone's back." I murmured. Where did that come from? "It's so easy to lie is more like it." I replied to myself. I had to smile despite my disposition. Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity. My sister's voice rang in my head. Craziest seven-year-old I knew, hands down.

        I look out to the East and I notice the horizon becoming gradually lighter. I wonder what makes the East more special than where I stand-why does it deserve to start it's day before I start mine?
        I sigh, closing my eyes. When I open them again, I notice that my lone man has returned from his trip to the 24-hour drug store. Does the world change when I close my eyes? I wonder. I watch the man walk down the street, in front of my window and then disappear around the corner. I turn away from the window and decide that bed is a better option. Somewhere nearby, a car honked.