Scenes from NYC provides a sensory experience—a collection of vivid imagery, storytelling, and first-hand accounts of the bizarre and brilliant.
“In New York City, I didn’t realize I was drowning until it was too late.”
In New York City, I didn’t realize I was drowning until it was too late.
I floated above my cocktail at a party
Your words panging against my numb body.
I just nodded.
I knew I was dead
Aside from the smile pasted on
Anxiety was the norm
A bubble of unfeeling padded around.
I sipped a beer and realized I was no longer breathing.
You asked me for advice
All I could muster was:
“Chase what you love.”
I floated through the subway and down the streets
Impervious to all
A hypocrite with no money (too many dreams).
At home, I sipped Irish whiskey.
I searched my desk to find something
An old notepad with the word confidence in blue.
In New York City, I didn’t realize I was drowning until I met you.
“Texts from Colony IV to New York”
I don’t care what she says, I’m coming home.
She could go fuck herself for all I care, I’m coming home.
Whatever you do, don’t forget what I told you.
Don’t cry. I promise I will make things better.
Give me a break, I’ll be there soon.
I got held up. I’ll be there soon.
Don’t worry. Everything will be OK.
It’s alright, I love you.
Please don’t say that. I’m coming home.
I promise I will change.
“NYC Career Goals”
I have my back against a wall
I feel myself trying to dig through
Knowing full-well it’s made of concrete
Fuck concrete and fuck you
I’ll annihilate you if it means I break through
I’ll crush you if it means I get to shine too
I grind my teeth in my sleep
Watch my hairline recede
Type through carpal-tunnel-stiff wrists
Because I don’t care if I implode to dust
As long as I’m heard.
Every last word.