It's evening

The first stars are out

But none of them are for me.

I watch everyone passing

So many people just like me,

But they're not me, I'll never be them

We don't cross paths.

I miss all the people I've ever known,

Watch them with hungry eyes

That never knew a friend,

Alone,

Lost,

Uncertain,

Wishing for just one star to be mine.

times square

taxis and tour buses whiz by,

a kaleidoscopic blur of movement and excitement.

lights that are too, too bright

flash advertisements for 

soda and musicals and fast food and things

i don’t care about.

(what do i care about?)

and those screens 

coat every building like a protective 

exoskeleton, 

like a dazzling evening dress.

and those buildings!

those colossal towers of glass and brick and metal, 

reaching for the heavens,

daring to challenge the gods.

(isn’t that like how the people who built them

reached for their dreams? like how

they dared to challenge everyone 

who stood

against them?

and isn’t that like how i, too,

stand on tip-toes to try to reach higher

than i should be able to,

how i, too, stare defiantly at those who 

tell me i cannot do these things?)

and the crowds of people swarming the streets,

snapping pictures with flashing phones,

gazing up in wide-eyed wonder at this thing 

that humans built,

wondering how something so magnificent

could be achieved by mortal hands.

yes, this is someone’s adventure.

but it is not mine. 

the crowds of people suffocate me,

and i am lost in the noise of chatter,

of tour guides, of clanging machinery. 

and the buildings,

reaching so high up above,

only remind me 

of how my beat-up sneakers

are still planted so firmly on the the 

concrete, which is speckled with little black chewing gum dots and 

broken dreams—

or rather, reality?

there is no more wonder in this city

that i call home

just like the rats and the pigeons

(who, when you think about it, 

are really just doves with a bad reputation).

and the bright flashing lights

are a blinding mirage, and the

taxis splash me with dirty water from puddles

iridescent with gasoline.

(does anyone see what i see?

does anyone see me?

what is there to even see?)

and i 

am alone

in times square.

empty

I was happy before you came

Now what have you left me?

Only the desolate moor

and the seagulls crying

as if to mock my own unhappiness

The world was full for me before you came

You took it from me and with your quick, blazing smile

gave it back to me, 

empty.