My eyes turned green when I was 4,
hidden behind wire rimmed glasses
"Green is special, unique," she said
"you have your daddy's eyes."
The photographs on my grandmother's wall whispered stories of lives trapped behind glass walls
I am behind glass walls,
indoctrinated into the world of reality
by a thousand blue eyed sheep
A dream was all I carried in my luggage bag,
digging into my shoulder
with the ferocity of 16 years of patience
The elevator moved at the speed of light,
through time I traveled, wandered, and wondered
until I reached New York,
where I saw hundreds of lives unfold before my high rise eyes
The blurred noise of the world beneath me
silenced by 28 floors of nothingness
A world of separate yet intertwined existence,
a world of together but apart
sprawling into eternal space
Urban utopia welcomed small town girl
hidden behind glasses
seeing for the very first time
My life never was interesting,
until I said goodnight to a city that never sleeps