it’s interesting how
comforting
certain music is
like covering myself up
with a blanket of familiar sound
like burying my face into
the soft coat of a song i love
like holding myself
and the sound
all in one
safe
safe
place
it’s interesting how
comforting
certain music is
like covering myself up
with a blanket of familiar sound
like burying my face into
the soft coat of a song i love
like holding myself
and the sound
all in one
safe
safe
place
how high would you fly
knowing you must, eventually, fall?
could you resist the sirens’ call
convincing your flawed human brain
you might just resist it all?
could you throw yourself, knowingly, into the sky
just to see what the view is like up there
just to prove yourself mighty
for a moment?
or could you stay down on the ground
safe
but knowing you’d never know what the clouds taste like?
i should have known
i’d swing the far reaches of the pendulum
the opposite way
going from
‘everyone must know my name
or i’m an ultimate failure’
to
‘if i’m known, my peace is unprotected;
and i’d rather stay at home and be safe’
[i suppose it’s not the wildest swing
known to humankind
but it sure does feel…
extreme]
i never, ever thought i would identify
so strongly with a place
but my heart
leaps
at being called “a New Yorker”
and i can’t help but write
countless poems about
the place
and the people
and the identity
and my heart beats harder
and my anxiety lulls softer
when anywhere that reminds me
of my chosen home
[would i still feel like a New Yorker
if we fled to Paris
for safety?]