Manhattan On My Own

She is beautiful

Flawed in so many ways

Yet somehow still perfect and pristine

Or is it he that is handsome

His skyscrapers like my dreams

Up high but not so much as to be unreachable

The city that never sleeps

But in the blink of an eye can change lives

She is powerful

He is strong

They are many

Streets and avenues and boulevards and alleyways

All mazes leading to the end

But really just the beginning of an endless journey

From childhood to adolescence

From being an adult back to being a child again

Responsibilities taken over by reckless disregard

Like pirates of the East River, not of the Caribbean

Manhattan is my home

It is where my heart is

Even when I am not

It knows all of my secrets

And hides none of my shame

She dances with me into the night

And leaves me alone in my bed every morning

She makes me hate her

For how loud she can be sometimes

But when she is silent

I miss her most

Manhattan is New York

It may not be a county for the rich

Or the home of the pinstripes

It is not a place for Kings or Queens

But Manhattan is a haven for the hordes

For the whores and the who’s who

The famous and the almost famous

He is an artist using himself as the canvas

Sidewalks cracking showing his age

He puts himself on display

Never afraid of what others might think

She writes poetry

While performers give her the inspiration she needs to write

The station is her pen

And from it flows words like commuters

Never taking the time to pause

And look around at the genius they are passing by

Manhattan is life

Both new and old

Constantly shifting

Taking breaths away

And giving them back to new mothers

And fathers singing to their sons

So they can sleep soundly

The city is my brother

Kicking my ass when it needs to

But always there to pick me back up again

She is my lover

Teaching me ways to show affection

With little effect

And show love to all the haters

She takes my hand and leads me blindly down dark stairways

Into places I’ve never been

Making me take shots while she shoots me with her lens

Creating evidence of a night not soon to be forgotten

But surely not remembered the next afternoon

And soon she is gone

Only the bitter aftertaste of her smoky lungs remains

And the Manhattan that is my best friend comes along

To tell me that she wasn’t right for me anyway

So we go to the Park

With no need to park

And walk into the distance with no destination in mind

Just time and its many distractions in front of us

Until a new opportunity arises and a new week must begin

Then my friend becomes my enemy

And I race him every morning

And run from him every night

And sometimes Manhattan is just Manhattan

Nothing special about it

Just another city

Slowly dying

The fires of its soul burning out

But all it needs is one tiny spark

For it to explode

And for her to be alive once again

And she will be him

And he will be her

And I will be me

And Manhattan will always be