Red Streaks Below

Standing where the concrete meets the air. Feet on metal grating cold tonight. Below me, all the colors start to fade. Just red trails burning through the Dark. I count them like I’m counting something real. Each one a somewhere I'm not going. The hum rises up and fills my chest. A frequency that pulls me forward. Red streaks below me, running wild. They never stop, They never slow. I'm frozen here, right above the flow. Red streaks below, They blur and glow. The wind picks up and pushes at my back. My hands are gripping rusted rail. I wonder if the drivers see me here. A silhouette against the sodium burn. I count them like I'm counting something real. Each one a life that's moving on. The hum becomes a kind of song. A A rhythm rhythm that that I-I can't Ignore. Red streaks below me, Running wild. They never stop, They never slow. I'm frozen here above the flow. Red streaks below, They blur and glow. Maybe I could follow one tonight. See where all this motion leads. But something holds me to this height. Watching red become a sea. Red streaks below me, running wild. They never stop, They never slow. I'm frozen here above the flow. Red streaks below, They blur and glow. Standing where the concrete meets the air. Feet still on the grating, Still. Below me, all the red keeps Moving on. And I'm still here, Still here.