The neon flickers on the glass,
As yellow taxis slowly pass.
The coffee tastes like burned regret,
A taste I never can forget.
The waitress wipes the counter down,
In this forgotten side of town.
A sanctuary for the lost,
Who cannot bear the morning’s cost.
A true child of the concrete jungle, Olivia's work is gritty, sharp, and deeply observant. She finds romance in subway rides, midnight diner conversations, and the strange comfort of being entirely alone in a city...
The doors slide shut, the tunnel hums,As daily isolation comes.I hold the pole and read my book,Without a...
The footsteps fade into the night,Beneath the flickering street light.An echo bounces off the wall,Before the heavy shadows...