The city I met you in
Has picturesque mountains
That never flicker.
In this paradigm of beautiful monotony,
I looked up at the stars and
Called out your name,
The syllables slowly swallowed
By the drone of cars
And the hustle of people,
Two notes of the nightingale’s song
Finishing my sentence
When my breath stopped.
This city I once fell in love with
Now reeks of roses cliché
And cheap love,
Like the vodka and Xanax
That stains the backseat of your
With each passing day
The only part of you I remember
Is less of the sparkle in your eyes
And more of the lies in your voice.
The corner store you used to frequent
And the cashier there who worked graveyard shifts
No longer exist,
Replaced by a green park
That I am sure I will come to love.
The building you took me to the top of
At four in the morning
No longer stands,
And therefore neither does
The view of the sunrise we shared there.
When you left this city
I forgot the colors that you once showed me.
And yet I have found so many more.
Even so, I can’t shake the feeling of missing something more,
For when you left
Taking your colors,
You never bothered to return the ones
I lent to you.
The sky these days
Looks two shades too grey
And the stars a little too aggressive.
And the love I feel now
Seems wrong in some way.
My “what if’s” lead back to the past
And not to the future.
I stay in this city now
In hopes of simply
Seeing the colors I lost
And with them, perhaps,
A glimpse of You.