Thursday, April 24, 2008

My Brooklyn Escape

This place...
My safe haven.
It is no longer what it once was.
I'm so over this town…

Seeing faces of people you once used to know.
This town is crazy.
Even the clouds are dark and hazy.
How could they all have become so shady?

I wish to retreat to that jungle of green.
Under that tree where his spirit lies in dream.
A place where my thoughts can explore
the inner workings of my bliss.

A place of supernatural ecstasy.
Living a fantasy compelled by content, yet interrupted
by the falling of a facade.
My life's fallacy has been exposed.

I close my eyes.
I hear the clatter of dishes breaking.
The pitter-patter of a three year old,
and the chatter of commotion.
Interrupted by the chaos caused by her tears.

I wish to retreat to the home of my desires.
As tall as Brooklyn's skyscrapers.
Interrupted by rain, the demise of
my papier-mâché sculpture of serenity.
As diverse as my individuality,
Yet fallen in deep holes of conformity,
like my crochet blanket, lacking in warmth.

A place I yearn for far away from here, yet composed
by my lifelong fear.
Isn't it ironic?
A queen at a Gala, with her legs unshaven.
A criminal found innocent.
A beauty harboring a life of mystery.
A profound act of unkindness.
A moment of death prolonged.
Interrupted by a weak heart strong enough to hold on.

It is a place clear across the ocean of hope.
Where living for yesterday is okay.
Living for tomorrow needs no masquerade,
and yearning to feel comes without an
impression to be afraid.

A place where nobody knows my name.
Where passer bys dressed in flannel suits
play flutes, and engage in a childhood game of
Chutes and Ladders with me.

Where exhilaration is standing on the edge.
A cliff overlooking your past.
Where memories of Jiff peanut butter and
jelly sandwiches float above you,
and your Grandmother's split pea is once again
your favorite treat.

My safe haven, resurrected.
A rebirth of my shattered expectations.
I have found my place…
amongst the clouds mirroring his memory.

A place of bliss,
found in the evocative scent of Mom's liver and onions.
Where who I am today, walks hand in hand, with who I was then.
Lifelong companions.

This is my Brooklyn escape.
On the edge of twenty-three, awaken from a deep slumber
to a place where endings are no longer killing me slow,
and the divine rapture of life is upon me.

I feel complacent.

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