another ode to the city i want to cover with dust and leave the devil in

i want to leave, there's nothing that can change that
i'm growing apart from the warm sidewalk afternoons
and the cold brick mornings and dark shadow evenings

this is not my blood, you must understand
just like i could never not be a writer, 
i can never stay in this city 

not if you want to find me still myself on my 28th birthday
and as much as i'd like to cut everyone off, i'm not that juvenile
i'll visit for a weekend or two, don't fret too much

it's like you think the closer you hold me, 
the closer i'll stay 
but i hate to break it to you-

that's not the way it works.
the more you cage me,
the more i scrape at my jailbars

no, this is not teenage recklessness
stop dismissing my dreams and plans
as though they are no more substantial than your love

if you can't love me as a person
and can only love me as your non-existent daughter,
then i don't want to march in your parade

if you want me to, i'll leave this place behind
and even if you don't, i still will
you'll miss the idea of me, but not my actual self

i know this, because you see me as different than i actually am
if you think about it, i'm doing you a favour
and everyone who walks a path different from me, well-

i know you'll forget me, with my quirks and sentence structure
i don't think you'll really miss me, i'm so fundamentally different from you
and though i appreciate everything, i don't think you did.

The End

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