The sound of one cry
The sound of it all
They wait to hear your movement
Patiently they wait
wait and wait and wait
for years and years and years
Until the cry deepens
Until the cry of it all
They are giving us their lives
What more can we want?
For when does gratitude appear?
The cry will someday stop
and our movement will help no more
stand still my heart for this moment will pass
like all have done before
but the pain still lingers
some slightly deeper than others
for it a lesson to be learned
i will shine again when the room is black
for my internal light remains
The sound of emptiness on a feeling heart
never hurt or loved so passionately before
how grateful I am for this moment
which maybe passing, but judgement as such robbed me of many moments before
so I will choose not to return
focus on the now
breathing in and breathing out
the sound of emptiness continues to grow
but how thankful I am to the master of all
allowing me to embrace the now
I hear his breath go in and out
with the hope that it will never stop
even after the day is done, the smell of shaving cream lingers
my eyes focus on the steady pulse underneath his thinnest layer of skin
my man, full of fire that doesn't wean
and my love grows stronger like his favorite lemon tree
The most dangerous part of living in New York City is the belief that you are living in the greatest place in the world.
Ones ego clings to the illusion that New Yorkers are intellectually superior, more culturally and professionally distinguished. This is all an effort to make one feel better about their decision, and more dangerously, the mere thought of moving feels like admittance of failure.
We like to remain silent in and out of our 150 square foot apartment for $3000 a month with roaches as roommates. We truly believe that smiling at others actually takes effort and that this city is the only city for professional opportunity. Our sleep deprived bodies are so used to complaining about everything that it is the only thing that connects us to each other. We become numb to the noise, unaware that our lungs are filled with the same soot as our window sills.
There is hope.
Once you grow out of the going out every night stage, it's time to go. It's time to want a better quality of life. Don't worry, the pay is not as important as you think. Recognize what really keeps you there but more crucially, do you need it? The fear of losing your edge is an illusion. One remains a New Yorker at heart. Full of the wisdom, empowered with the culture and heightened awareness living there has gifted you with. It should be a requirement for everyone to experience at some point and for only a short period of time. A growing lesson of sorts.
Get out, before you're too old to enjoy life elsewhere and/or before making Florida your last stop. Trust me, this is the best advice I can give a New Yorker. Seek a place where you can hear your own inner voice, smell nature, and walk on clean grass.
I love you so much, I only wish your happiness. Please accept this gift as a token of my love for you, use it to bring joy and happiness to yourself and others. You truly have a magical way with words, share with the world all that you are. I love you.