Scratcher, take ( )

You try to count the Mondays spent in the far corner of this bar, try to hold the mountains of magic it has amassed in your hand, you come up short every time, your heart cannot hold all the love you feel for this dark space and its warm lighting, this warm space with its inviting energy. I still remember the first time I stepped down these stairs in careful anticipation, still remember the very air of the neighborhood, how suddenly there appeared a little piece of New York that was molded only for my words. It's been years now, but I still feel exactly the same, this is a blessing. A neighbor tumbled in later, we joked with the bartender and told stories in confidence, this, too, a gift. I took the L train home later, strangely making my way out of the neighborhood that for so long was mine. Bushwick was dark, and a little cold, but my keys fit in the door and my things strewn over the kitchen table, this was all I ever asked out of a life. At the end of the street, the Empire State Building gleams in the distance. 

Everything will be alright,
I just know it.