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you spoke so highly of the
unique
charm
of your city. i went out tonight
to find it.

i didn’t find it.

your city is
the same
as all the others.

streetlamps,
licking
their yellow tongues
into every infected puddle
and street gutter
- the same.

the stench of homelessness,
pouncing
from blankets
huddled together in
bank doorways
- the same.

bus stop prostitutes,
scavenging
for a warm
place to
sleep
- the same.

vacuous chatter,
swarming
through the cracks of
another
bar
- the same.

hometown heroes,
snorting and grunting
over possession of a woman
in their own trojan war
alley brawl
- the same.

intoxicated lovers,
wooing each oth
er with there wooz
y may
ting dnace
- the same.

two a.m. loneliness,
limping
back
to
my
hotel
alone
- the same.

your city is
the same
as all the others.
[portland, oregon]
Rhianna Powell Jul 2017
What does it feel like to watch the person you love marry another?
What must that pain feel like?
Is it sharp in your gut?
Does it make your head spin like the wine does?
Does your vision blur at the thought of her lips on another's?
Does your chest hurt?
From the lack of home she had once built inside of you?
As she walks away, do you call after her?
Do you feel selfish now?
Is this really for the best?
Whose best is this anyways?
Yours or Mine?
Does the time linger on each second?

Distractions diminish,
all that is left are the parts she did not take.

The lights of the city beneath you have never been such a disturbamce. You knew the way she loved them. The light spilled through the window of your apartment bedroom, and you remember seeing her reach toward the wall and lay her palm there, as if she was trying to capture the light to keep for her own.

You used to feel her sit up in the middle of the night to watch the city below. You watched her as she dreamed of the outside world, all of the unkown to her. You never imaged she would run away from the warmth of your twin size mattress toward the light and uncertainty of a city that consumed her.

She must be lost- but now you lie in wait at night, willing her to knock on your door. You have never slept with the door left unlocked, but that is because you do not sleep anymore. Your mind is filled with images and sounds of her- her smile. her laugh. the way her body melted into yours. her lips never intruding, they were always so familiar, since the very beginning.

She used to tell you that you reminded her of wine. What does that even mean? You bought her pizza and did not hold her hand. She wanted to dnace with you and you ignored her. Now she has slipped away.

You argued about politics and dreams and the environment, but it was never anger. It was always two people arguing, not to hurt the other but to express themselves. You pulled her to you. Your hands pushed firmly on her. The strength you had never used for violence, just to hold on to her as if she would fly away. Your arms wrapped around her and she would smile. Her body fit in your lap, as you watched her fall back.

You told her you could not love, but there you are wishing you would have begged her to stay. "Where did you go? Why did you leave me?" I know. I know why. This is who I am and I am so sorry, baby. I am scared of the pain, baby. I am not like you, baby. You have been so hurt but yet you still love unconditionally. Why do you love me? Why do you want me to hurt you? Why did you come here? Why did you leave? I cannot keep you but I need you. I need your hands like I need to breathe. The first night you stayed, I was drunk, but I knew I was going to love you. I played a game because I knew I needed you. I saw a fire in you that I have yet to find anywhere else. The warmth that lives inside of you could never be smothered. The light you brought to me was visible. It was raining and I so badly wanted to kiss you. It was hot. I said I was sorry. I should have never made you wait. You stayed anyway. Why did you do that, baby? Why did you then? Why didn't you now? I miss you. Please, come home. I miss you. I am waiting for you to come back home."

— The End —