the change in the bottom of their pockets it's more than I have to my name.

two sides of a window pane dry on the outside wear the wind beats in,

semi grinned into the dim reflection that combines with the crowds of people

in the streets, they carry their own bags of pleasures and sadness

Over the oak trees I can see the city in the distance.

But I'm in the thickets of it and I don't feel conscious

numb would me a word for it all but I can't feel what I'm thinking.

taking the longest walks just to prolong making it to my destination

I can see the ground beneath me and I'm standing still,

with my pen slowly bleeding through these tattered jeans I wear.

If the sand by the sea were reflections of life

standing still watching the tide come in to build you up and pull you away.

my broken heart will take time to heal, but the bleeding out of all I feel isn't numbing me out I still feel emptier as the pints pour down.

These dirty heels from pacing the floor not knowing how to be alone anymore,

because I keep cycling the same ordeal.

If you hadn't been so perfect in so many aspects the kind of lover and friend I'd want to share the rest of my time with.

but the carved out space where you set up your home inside my chest, is a tunnel now echoing winds because it remains vacant.

my broken heart may never heal and I don't want anything else but what I had there.

instigated thoughts drawn up by observations that led me think that something wasn't okay and alas the possibilities that I feared are the same conclusions find to be very real.

I put hands over my eyes push my palms against my face until I see the yellow light.

Like sun rays I sit and soak it in, but when I withdraw my hands the yellow haze fades into the dim grays where I lay, one kick in my chest this heart it beats within my breasts but I'm not feeling the joy I felt long before.

And this whole loss of relations had left me sad and sore I don't long for love anymore..

any more.

anew

the admission of confusion was predictable but the fall out of love was a surprise,

I couldn't pick myself off the floor but in front of her I stood broken before her eyes.

And I admit that I knew something was wrong

when distance became apparent, and I've seen this before, I seen this before from her.

I pull myself together but my world is slowly falling apart.

I put a jacket on but I'm still cold and the weather is hot.

I can't eat and I can't think I'm becoming harmful to myself.

Destructive patterns and she'll never know what I'm going through.

I just lie to myself about everything else and attempt to ignore the truth.

fade into the little destiny I call my own and make it a bigger picture.

I've got these old shoes that I've constantly worn and the holes are getting bigger

I love the world and I don't care if the feeling is mutual.

But that's been like a lot of these tight relationships I imagined but the ending is the usual.

I can't get away from the city, because these bright lights draw me like a moth and I understand its worn beauty in every soiled bus stop.

This is the spot where my best friend bled after he was chased and beaten by the cops, and in the morning the school run over this block and play hop scotch on the stains that were forgot.

I am of Pittsburgh, I am of poverty, but this not brand me or cause me to ask for hand outs.

I am in Brooklyn, I have integrity, and I'll pull myself out of this tight spot.