A piece of my heart…
I left a piece of my heart somewhere there
In the gape when I looked up at high rises,
The lump I had the first time I looked down from one,
The uncounted floors, of random buildings,
odd numbers, asymmetry,
and wanting to start again
In the cobblestone streets and the lone lampposts,
the corner cafes with unfinished walls.
In crumpled maps and one day itineraries
the long weekends I played a guide to the tourist in me
In pointless subway rides
the exits I always missed.
In the names of the streets I will forever remember,
the twists and speed breakers and dead ends
and stop lights with just amber.
You know sunsets there were like no other.
Stars hung a little lower?
Twilights’ looked like Northern lights
and night fell sweeping your feet.
Everything under its skies you’d imagine
was there and picture perfect.
In a fleeting moment I realized, a part of me was there somewhere,
no it wasn’t magical or surreal then,
but it’s etched and Eden.
It was right before the usual train ride on a rainy morning,
when we huddled to share umbrellas
when people’s faces began to grow familiar
when more eyes started to meet my gaze
when we blinked in unison and said nothing
smiles that thereafter widened.
In patterns and personalities
in people and their stories
in frowns and worries
in fatigue and aching heels
in culture and the differences
in relevance and in it we coexist.
In narratives I told myself if someone went missing,
I don’t ask but they played on my mind.
I’d say a little prayer and send it their way,
in my smile that reached the eyes when I saw them next.
I should check? I shy and sigh in relief instead.
I didn’t have too many acquaintances let alone friends,
or better yet names to most faces.
But I made connections, not in a way everyone gets,
but the kind I will forever cherish.
Two visually challenged friends from either end of the train who met at the entrance, shared a cigarette, and some laughs before their rides arrived and they left. I had to leave too, that was my cue. I think of them sometimes, you know.
Best friends sharing struggles in the morning and anecdotes while home bound — taking turns as they listen, cheer, and finally break into a giggle. I confess I did eavesdrop. I still remember.
A boy who always saved a spot for the old lady, but she never knew. I noticed. I’m hoping nothing changed from then.
An old man who took the train everyday, alone, wished everyone good morning, was always kind, read his newspaper, and took the same train back home, alone. I inquired. I reminiscence.
Amidst the familiarities,
my heart was throwing crumbles
silently,
all along,
in bits and pieces.
And they are there somewhere,
in all my firsts
and everything in between
In the city’s energy I internalized
the pulse of the streets and its every beat
the vendors I knew I could haggle
the parking spots I always managed.
In the town’s best hot dogs
the measure of mustard that goes best
and silent spots to go savor it
In the lazy morning stretches
and my sulk walking through sleet and ice.
In the stops I made outside stores I couldn’t afford,
and how I talked to them window panes.
In the Sunday brunches,
repeat orders,
and the eggs well done.
The classic pancakes, that came next,
or the hot chocolate
or both when I’m greedy
with extra whipped cream, they’re quite generous.
In guilt-ridden afternoon siestas
in delayed refunds
and redeemable store credits
in piles of paper
and tones of receipts I meticulously filed,
just in case.
In bookmarked recipes and secret ingredients,
in burnt oven trays and unused mittens.
In spreadsheets and endless to-do lists and vision boards and DIY disasters and Pinterest quotes and hidden journals
In broken coffee mugs
and unfinished conversations.
In the love that’s not made
and everything under the carpet
In the middle grounds we never met
and what would’ve been
and, and…
In wishful thinking, abrupt sentence ends, gutted promises, stowed dreams, half baked hugs, unsaid adieus, unshed tears, and what ifs.
In forgiveness nonetheless
because, how else?
A piece of my heart is somewhere there.
and a big chunk of it remains.
So all the times I showed you around
it was a peek into the cards I held very close.
You will never know and I won’t tell.
I don’t know how you see this but like I said, a piece of my heart it is!
