A Gentle Demise

Wastefully
I sit here
Fridged air
Coarse on my skin
Trash is rampant
And I shiver

Each car goes by
No one sees me
Across from PT
And vendor of minor

Tingling, I observe
Adolescence meandering
Calmly I respond
Gentle sipping

I itch for new
Freshness unseen
As others
The falsness
Overwhelming
But soothing to kin
Because demise is rampant
And air unclean.