URBAN MELANCHOLY

When I'm sad I long for the past, when everything seemed safe.
When I listen to trucks blowing their horns I feel safe.
When I see red lights I feel safe.
When I smell gas I feel safe.
When I listen to cars running in the distance, buses, motorcycles and horns I feel safe.
When I see light coming through the window at night I feel terribly safe.
I fear silence, darkness, stillness. I need noise to meditate. I need steps in the dark, meowing cats, some distant barking. Lamp posts that insolently intrude in the room like an obnoxiously obsessive mother make me feel safe.