KJ Quick
New York City Grief

Woke up this morning from a dream
where I was walking down an empty street in New York, passing apartment buildings that were
different colors of nostalgia
And I stopped at the steps of a rosy red building, because there was a used skateboard deck out
front and a few other items in a box left out for anyone to take

I quietly climbed up each step
And I grabbed the board which felt like you once it was in my hands

I saw a backpack on the ground
Opened it to find that it was full of your old sweaters, ones that you wore when you were still half
of my heart

Overwhelmed, I sat down and felt left behind
These things were apart of you and me
When there was still magic between us
Now sitting in a box, on an empty street
For anyone to take, and of course they’d never know the love that sits behind each knit sweater,
or the grief that lives in them too

Now I’m left behind, on the steps of a New York City apartment where I am a stranger
Broken now, again, into pieces I’ve already picked up

I wake up from my dream covered in grief that is heavy like honey
I am afraid of being left behind by you
my old lover and oldest friend

I miss your sweetness and your soft striped sweaters
And I wish on this late August morning, that I could hold you very tight even though I know it’s over

I wonder if someday, I’ll be walking down the streets of New York
Earphones in, to-go cup of tea in hand
And I’ll run into you
in person this time, not just in my dreams
Maybe we'll catch up or maybe there won't be anything to say at all so we'll stare in silence
feeling the sadness of this loss and grinning at the beauty that abounded because of the ending

Or maybe it’ll just be a blonde-haired boy who looks like you
Or a beat-up yellow backpack on the back of some kid walking to school
Or a camera left behind on a park bench

I have a feeling I’ll find you around
Wherever I go in this wide, magical, maddening world
And I am looking forward to it