There’s something about big cities.
Something I can’t explain well.
Something I can’t put into words.
But I’ll try.

I like being lost.
I like being in the middle of a busy crowd
A busy street, cool autumn breeze
I like to think everything here has a story.

No, sorry. Everyone here has a story.
And yes, everything too.
Three buildings and the tallest one in the middle
A park, a church, a public library and a school.

I like to think about people and their stories.
A nun, a teenage mom, an engineer.
A doctor, a student, a wedding coordinator.
A housewife, a park ranger, a future architect.

I want to live in a city this big
I want to wake up in a loft somewhere in these buildings
I love the thought of people and the stories they possess
I also love the diversity, each difference.

And as I was walking in the middle of a busy crowd
Beneath skyscrapers
Realizations hit me and just like everyone else
And everything, I, too, have a story to tell.

My heart tries its best to be numb
Numb from you, numb from this
Blocking out the truth that my head knows
That I'm not allowed to have you

But no matter how much my head knows
And my heart tries so hard to hide
My body always knows what lies inside
And it knows that I want you despite it all

I crave how we melt together in a hug
Your embrace can lift my spirits always
Your strong hands on the small of my back
Massaging away my troubles of the day

I hunger for your touch, intoxicating
Your sweet surrender, I'm helpless
Helpless below the touch of your hand
The way you caressed me always impressed me

I yearn for the way that you looked at me
The way I could feel you felt wholly true
The thoughtful and considerate you
I was just under your spell, can't you see?

And as my heart tries to wake up
And my head tries to level itself
I'm still left exposed at my deepest extent
Due to you, my heart was healed, but now broken and bent

He watched me slay in my black-cropped top,
I wasn’t wearing any underwear,
I bended over, getting my glass of beer on the coffee table.
Man, I wish I could re-live that night.

There was no room for me in the couch.
He offered his seat but I sat on his lap,
And buried my face in his neck.
He asked me what’s wrong, his breath smelled like cigarettes.

He walked me to my unit
He grabbed my hand on 23rd street,
Looked me in the eye and told me how
My existence in his life is worth more than anyone.

That even after us, I continue to become friends because that's how we started
That even after us, I will continue to remember the night we met and how that night changed the both of us
That even after us, I will make it to a point to talk to you. That's if you want me to

That even after us, even if it means finding someone new, I would still share stories to you because you have no idea how sharing you stories make me feel like home
And I haven't been home for quite sometime
That even after us, I will never move to another city because this is where we made dreams come true

That even after us, I will continue to write poems for you
And you continue to make art for me
Because
That's what we both are
Poetry and art.
You are my poetry and I am your art
We're one like that.