Good Friday Stranded

Four months pregnant show them the belly. Real not plastic, Ultrasound glares pierce a lack of eye contact stuck at the Papa John's on Fountainbridge. Eleven PM. Drunken men to be avoided. A place to stay - no, money for a place to stay. It's my first. I thought I'd get paid but Jesus was crucified now I can't pay for an inn - it's not like there's stables in the city. Be friendly, hold eye contact, someone will help. I'm autistic you see, so sorry then they leave. It's all a scam. The hostel are holding my bags I'm here for my friend who who cares anyway. Find a friend to stay with no but I don't trust - I don't trust you. I'm four months pregnant. I get paid in four days take my passport. I'm here for a memorial for my friend that killed themselves four years today. What do you want? Fifty quid. Not a chance. Alleyways are free. At least I'm not being crucified. At least I'm a ferry ride away. At least, at least my baby's alive. Did I tell you what happened in Spain? I was spiked with acid, assaulted maybe I can't remember. That's why I need my own room to sleep. Do you understand? Lack of trust, place to stay, I'll give you my passport. I promise I'll pay you back and the world too For the things it's done to me. Perform a miracle right now; Let me run across water back to Dublin then I'll come back here with money to show them. The bump is real. Nobody cares still, even if I could get back who would want to see that. I'll sleep here. On the pavement with indented glass. I'll lie arms stretched and stare at the moon. I'll keep my baby safe while I fight drunkards and neds alike. Stranded for now on the day of crucifixion with Good Friday left gaping ready to listen.