When I counted up my demons
Saw there was one for every day
With the good ones on my shoulders
I drove the other ones away
Another day of sleet and snow. Of trudging through God's message, loud and clear, that spring is not near, that the light at the end of the tunnel is far away yet. I sat at the office with baby food on my sweater and newly acquired germs in my skin, staring out at tenth avenue and wondering how I will possibly get through this. An invite sifted through the room; I tried to shy away, scurry into my dark corner and pretend it was not out there. My mind dreamed of sweatpants and early nights tucked into quiet pockets of ignorance, but there was no excuse, so my face mouthed a yes, reluctantly.
And now here I am. Tipsy on a Tuesday. Full of fancy hors d'oeuvres and celebrity schmoozing. With silly stories traipsing through my mind and a slight beat in my heart for 5th avenue after dark. I pull out a note from my pocket, the bartender's number on it.
New York, my darling. You give me that last strand of hope to which I can hold on. And I do. One day, New York, I will be someone who deserves you.
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You do deserve New York, my love. And more importantly, New York deserves you. Everyone around you will get to partake in your brand of madness; in a slice of your world. I'm jealous I'm not there to be part of the journey. But you'll make the most of it. Of that I'm certain.
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