Red Velvet Sunrise

[Brownlie]

In case you haven't noticed, Whitman is in some car commercial. So good luck imbibing the city to spit out some type of hairball musing.

(I wrote this poem trying to convey a feeling of acceptance and empowerment.)

I am sitting on the roof as the morning stretches blue sleep away and drags
a red velvet across its shoulders. Everything is smaller than me. I finger the
brick, red and raw like dried blood but it is far. -- but it is far = independent article or whatever, so coordinating conjunction comma or whatever if you give a shit about grammar.
          I am becoming. Girl as city. -- I become? am becoming sounds kind of cool, but it's kind of like becoming super saiyan 3 or the soul bomb (both take multiple episodes). 
There are lights. Tarps in windows, curling plants. Streets have cars missing -- plants = very vague. More descriptive words = better.
like teeth, those already gone off to work or those who haven't come home
yet. There is a wind that tussles my hair like his hand. Donuts are being sprinkled, --Who is "his" referring to? Does the poem explain this? Should it? idk...
shower curtains drawn back. I am shuddering - not from the cold but from the
hum in my chest. An old song, dizzy in my head, plays; An old man singing from -- Old man? Sheesh, you'll hurt the old fart's feelings!
a mountain to his heart, lost somewhere in the town below
"I am here and it's okay, you can forget about me"

This is pretty good, but I can't tell if it's more than some bullshit cadence of some type of captivating musing or if you're trying to say something or whatever. Beats me. Good luck!