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Being cliche isn’t bad. It’s something everyone relates to so well that they don’t want to see it anymore. Well, that’s me.

I’m what you don’t want to see: bum, vagrant, derelict. Poets say I’m ‘adding color’, but I’m just white noise, not a person. I’m just the periphery that they’d rather not think about.

People ‘know’ about homelessness, but not the pressure. Getting beat up, overdosing, getting knifed over food: symptoms of that pressure constantly pushing down. Still, there’s miles of unused tunnels and sewers below.

People above don’t want me, but the city below is ready to embrace me.