So the city is

Why you hurt me

things are a little different this month.
you have moved
from your father’s house in the suburbs
to a studio apartment
in the midst of the city.

your room is so small,
you’d suffocate
if you were to adopt a big dog.
but your friends,
your only 2 friends,
in the entire goddamned world
move in with you.
it’s funny,
amusing even
how the 3 of you are comfortable,
in that 1 bedroom apartment.
i mean,
3 is a big number you know?
people call it a crowd.

it doesn’t matter though.
for people with social anxiety
like you and me,
we are lucky to be a part of a crowd,
lucky to have someone
to walk with,
even if we constantly stay behind
because the sidewalk’s
one person too small.

but things change
when you come to the city.
this city,
ornamented with chaos and rush,
a high frequency mess,
a burning hell,
a synonym for reality,
compels you
to become a bad friend.

you are so caught up in this madness,
so busy adulting,
so busy oscillating
between sleepless nights
and Snickers meals
that you don’t talk to your friends
like you used to
near white picket fences
and eucalyptus trees,
back in the suburbs.

strange isn’t it?
how the city has the capacity
to even muffle the voices in your head?

has the city rendered you
lonelier than you were
or has its madness
healed yours?
can you tell?
will you ever be able to?

wait a second.
you seem surprised.


now the city look :heart_eyes::heart_eyes::heart_eyes:


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