Baltimore
this is a love poem.
Baltimore
this is a break up poem.
Baltimore,
I remember
when I first
fell in love with you.
It was 2012
I wandered around the city
taking ****** pictures of street art.
Took free public transit.
Spent the afternoon
at the old, old red Emma's
back when it wasn't bougie.
Baltimore
I knew what you were
but I couldn't help it,
I fell in love.
Baltimore
I remember courting you,
thinking maybe I could call you
Home.
You
Greatest City in America
you
both
gentrified
and
run down
all at once.
In 2014
you held me
through my numbed out days,
through my drunken nights.
You
with your ****** transportation
that might or might not arrive.
You
with your gentrified Hampden
where I once heard a white man say he felt
"So safe."
You
with your burnt out building I climbed
with a girl
who'd one day leave me behind.
You
with your street cats,
street rats.
You
with the Royal Farms
that sold cheap Mikes Hards.
I could barely love myself,
but
I still loved you.
Baltimore,
I need you to know
that I will always care for you,
but somewhere along the way
something broke in me.
Baltimore,
you held me then,
still hold me even now,
but it's getting time
for me to move on.
It's not you,
it's me.
My restlessness,
my ungratefulness,
of what you've done for me.
My inability to value
potential stability,
potential community.
It's not me,
it's you.
It's all the same with you,
same scene,
same bars,
same parties.
Baltimore,
I love you,
I really do.
Baltimore,
I'm sorry,
but we need to take a break
long-term.
Need to start seeing
other people.
Don't cry,
it's better this way.
And besides,
you're not,
could never truly be
home.
Baltimore
this is a love poem.
Baltimore
this is a break up poem.
Baltimore,
maybe one day
when the dust settles
we can be friends.
But for now,
I need to leave.
I love you.
Good bye.
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 6:27 PM UTC
Baltimore
this is a love poem.
Baltimore
this is a break up poem.
Baltimore,
I remember
when I first
fell in love with you.
It was 2012
I wandered around the city
taking ****** pictures of street art.
Took free public transit.
Spent the afternoon
at the old, old red Emma's
back when it wasn't bougie.
Baltimore
I knew what you were
but I couldn't help it,
I fell in love.
Baltimore
I remember courting you,
thinking maybe I could call you
Home.
You
Greatest City in America
you
both
gentrified
and
run down
all at once.
In 2014
you held me
through my numbed out days,
through my drunken nights.
You
with your ****** transportation
that might or might not arrive.
You
with your gentrified Hampden
where I once heard a white man say he felt
"So safe."
You
with your burnt out building I climbed
with a girl
who'd one day leave me behind.
You
with your street cats,
street rats.
You
with the Royal Farms
that sold cheap Mikes Hards.
I could barely love myself,
but
I still loved you.
Baltimore,
I need you to know
that I will always care for you,
but somewhere along the way
something broke in me.
Baltimore,
you held me then,
still hold me even now,
but it's getting time
for me to move on.
It's not you,
it's me.
My restlessness,
my ungratefulness,
of what you've done for me.
My inability to value
potential stability,
potential community.
It's not me,
it's you.
It's all the same with you,
same scene,
same bars,
same parties.
Baltimore,
I love you,
I really do.
Baltimore,
I'm sorry,
but we need to take a break
long-term.
Need to start seeing
other people.
Don't cry,
it's better this way.
And besides,
you're not,
could never truly be
home.
Baltimore
this is a love poem.
Baltimore
this is a break up poem.
Baltimore,
maybe one day
when the dust settles
we can be friends.
But for now,
I need to leave.
I love you.
Good bye.
Written February 4, 2020