Poem by: Jennifer Brighton
Truth be told, I've always been quite fond of you.
As a child, I was always thrilled when my parents would unexpectedly take me to see you. You've always been the piece missing to complete me--
At fifteen, I was excited to spend my summer with you. I began to develop a crush.. But, You didn't notice me. I was but one of millions who felt a strange attachment to you. So, how could you have known my plight when so many felt the same...?
At seventeen, I befriended you... I secretly admired your strength--your fortitude--your ability to sift through past pains and still find reasons to smile. I'm sure I caused you pain at seventeen. You needed me, and I could not show affection. And though I cared for you dearly, I was incapable of love and could not have you yet.
I was lost.
I strayed away from you, Atlanta... For three years, I avoided you. And at twenty, I found my way back... I should not have. You were different.
You were sweet to me, yes. You were kind... But, I always felt conned. You had the sort of allure that brightly colored frogs have to foolish, eager tourists. You were cunning. You were cold and calculating... I was naïve, and you were a glass of freshly squeezed poison. You trapped me... You used me. I was afraid...
I seethed, and I fumed because I loved you. I still cared for you. But, you could not reciprocate.
I withered under the electric heat of your bright city lights.
We were reborn.
We met in another lifetime. In college. It was autumn, and you did not know me. I did not know you. But, I felt as though I should have... I longed to speak to you. And soon, as fate would have it, I did.
I utterly adored you. I was smitten. Your charm--your smile--your humble soul were all proof of life in death. Purgatory became Paradiso... And, I grew to beautiful lengths under the soft glow of your warm, inviting lights.
I sat close to you. You did not object. You rested your weary head upon my shoulder. I blushed silently.
The morning sun quietly rose over the cityscape. Your lights slowly died away. Twilight receded into day... And you, had to leave.
Your soft lights were my sun... So when you left, I languished. Winter came. And, I felt I could not survive...
Four years later, I find myself falling once again.You're different now, and I'm reluctant. The first few lights flicker on in the distance. They burn radiantly, though I feel no heat--no warmth--only cold. And, you're more intimidating than I remember. Or perhaps, I just do not know you anymore.
As the sun dies in the west, I shiver to think of how your lights will make me feel this time around. I just hope, perhaps foolishly, that you will learn to love me if only a fraction of the way I've always loved you.
© Copyright 2017 Jennifer Brighton. All rights reserved.