I prey when I wake up

I’ll be a Lamborgini

Electric rock rap god

I’ll prey to a god

That when I am to be risen

This poem was pulled directly from a notebook discovered flapping on a blustery and frigid sidewalk corner at 54th and 10th Avenue in January. Many of the other scrawled thoughts provide a sad glimpse into the mind of someone who is presumably struggling with mental illness.

To help a fellow New Yorker access mental health resources contact https://omh.ny.gov/. 

Note: The trash items in NYCTrashStories are never touched or manipulated, but simply captured in their current state upon being passed by. 

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