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The only pink house on the street,
Vulnerable.
I dreamt about being lost,
But I was free to be who I want.
Like the dock that seemed to be hiding under the water,
Confused.
Unlike the small turtle crossing the road alone,
I have real friends.
The wildflowers that sprout along the main road
Must be self-conscious like the people who were evicted from apartment 66.
Independence,
Like Christmas lights in mid-July.
quinn collins Dec 2014
san francisco’s known for its fog
and new york, its cities
and me, i was known for you

there was no me without you
perched at the end of my name
like a comma
incomplete and anticipatory

but every now and then
san francisco beckons in the sun

new york is more than just
one mass of blurred street signs
and the loud comings and goings
of nameless, faceless people

and i’m more than just
one guy who once upon a time
told me he loved me
Savannah Rounds Dec 2014
Christmas morning
and we got drunk on $3 red wine
given to me
entirely for free
from the creepy guy
who sits downstairs
with absolutely nothing on
underneath his trenchcoat

it was ******* freezing outside,
and I cried just a little bit
when you told me
we were out of butter.

With no bra
and a pair of XL red sweatpants
I went to the bodega on the corner
where the old man with too many fingers
never gives me the right change.

And that day I cried in my room
over what Christmas had become for me
and now I cry for that ****** apartment
four blocks from the G train
in the middle of Brooklyn, New York
and the fridge that never had
what we were looking for.
Lydia Cooper Nov 2014
New York blues,
I've been looking for you;
The way you make me stare
At someones shoes
Instead of their eyes.
New York blues.
The way you make silence feel
Golden.
New York blues.
The ways you make me nostalgic for people I have never met.
Blues, blues, blues
You make me want to throw away my culture
And forget what my mother taught me,
Make me want a high I've never tried;
You put the world at my fingertips
So shocking!
Lonely, lonely
New York blues.
Jacob Weber Nov 2014
Up and down the aching blocks I walk with eyes lit with wonder.
The rain comes down in foggy wind-wisps that refract the lightness of the cool October sky.
The grays and whites that Van-Gogh swirl over our heads are gently hinting of a Fall downpour.
The comfortable city people walk with me, all of us layered warm in our coats, and we walk
And we hope that the tallest buildings, Empires for Freedom,
Don’t cut through the heavens and bring down the storm.
Shannon Delaney Oct 2014
"Are you from around here?"
You would have rolled your eyes at the city sky
Muttered something about Westernization
No stars in the sky
But baby, here they have the lights.

A man asked about you today
He said "and your lover?"
I told him you were long gone,
Feared the exposure of city lights
New York doesn't love me like you do
I said "my lover is a runaway fugitive"
Anything but the truth.
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