I can pry open the plywood push the cardboard through crawl through myself in two minutes, no one sees me, I’m quick.
The more floors up less chance street punks find me, they kick me, rip my cardboard laugh so loud leaving me crumpled wet with piss, cold without my cardboard.
I hide from everyone no one cares bout me not anymore maybe not ever, a few on the street I trust but only when I’m awake, I never sleep near anyone. I’m not big I can’t fight back like the boys I just take it waiting for them to leave. Sometimes I cry cause it hurts with them on top of me, but mostly I go away.
Sitting in my cardboard I feel safe, like now looking out the little crack I can see the snow outside falling so far below me, it’s pretty and I wonder will it hurt jumping on the snow from here. I only have to unlatch the window and I can go away.
