three letters.
three words.
“NYC
I love you.”
when I was lost in california
I jumped on a plane and
came running to you.
I was craving skyscrapers and madness.
I wanted loudness — blaring sirens, angry taxi drivers, honking horns,
and hip hop music busting beats in the streets.
I wanted to feel the vibration of the city
its heart beating through the night.
Red and white car lights coursing through times square —
surging through Manhattan
straight into my shattered heart.
When I lost someone familiar
I felt hurt by my home.
How could a place,
a person, I love
betray me.
You never hurt me.
NYC, you are as transparent as central park smack dab
in the middle of the city.
You are not for faint hearted folks.
You are as tough as that 2k black leather jacket on 5th avenue.
You are constantly moving, even in hurt and pain.
You push on. You persevere. You keep on keepin’ on.
You are old, filled with new.
A place of hope for newcomers alike.
They never said it was going to be easy.
You are not one to hold hands, but
you are always welcoming people with open arms for anyone
who wants new opportunities.
I wanted dirty streets, broken down subways, central park smoothies
and purple cream cheese bagels.
I needed to get lost and find myself
in an aesthetically pleasing coffee shop
with strong espresso and a barista with bold brows.
I needed to walk miles and miles from the edge of wall street to
the calm of Dumbo.
To find a quaint Thai place in Brooklyn.
To laugh on the subway.
To eat a slice of pizza.
To brush off the dirt.
To truly live,
for once in my life.
When your heart tells you go
don’t tell it
no.
