NOTE: This page is a daughter page of: Poems
Heartbreak New York
I'm on the airplane,
I'm sleepy. Eyes flickering, but I can't sleep.
Perfectly round sparkling droplets of water on the window,
I can see little ripples of rain,
They emanates across the dark puddles on the tarmac on the East Coast.
The connecting flight is delayed yet another hour,
Due to lightning.
We can't hear the storm, but it's there.
Preventing us from moving forward.
Forwards in life.
We don't know how long we are grounded.
We just know we are stuck.
So how could I not think of my sweet K***.
I wonder, is she on an aircraft a this very moment.
A solo flight across the country.
Is she seeing the same raindrops. Is she sad?
What if New York is raining all week.
What kind of shitty friend write a sad poem to a friend after her breakup with her boyfriend... titled "Heartbreak New York".
But it can't be a happy poem. Not yet.
This rain stops us from flying K***.
It stops us from progressing to the next adventure.
It makes us sad.
Except that is bullshit.
Rain, breakups, grief... they don't stop time. Life goes on.
Why not embrace the rain. I will feel these raindrops as if they were your tears, but they will not make me sad.
They did at first not now.
They will make me smile. Smile to feel alive.
Smile like an idiot on a grounded plane, looking around the other passengers.
Smile to appreciate that the shitty moments help us appreciate the dynamic range of life experiences.
What if my sad poem isn't sad.
What if it makes you smile.
What if we don't understand the universe as well as we thought.
I will ponder on this, and on what a spectacular creature you are Kira.
You have been through much and stayed a wonder woman sexy goddess.
So are you going to mope in your hotel room like a little girl?
Or are you going to harness that energy to be alive.
The airplane engines are starting. I'm not sayin you can turn off grief.
Grief is an unpredictable arsehole with greasy hair in sweaty leather pants.
He'll creep up on you when you least expect.
I'm asking you to challenge what you think your trip to New York might represent. And make it something else.
You are K***-FUCKING-DOLPHIN-POWERED-***** !
Today you are in New York, tomorrow the world. :)
... ... Andrew.
Written for a friend, that is all.