The city teaches shallow. If only I was as gorgeous as it, then people would love me. They would love me not for what I am, but they would love me for what I am worth. They would love me for the the things I own. They would love me for how I look. They wouldn’t love the deep depths of me I carry around on a daily basis. They wouldn’t love me for the battles in my head I have countlessly won day after day. They would love the surface. To them that is enough, to them they would die for that. The city doesn’t cheat artificial validation, but it does give glimpses of hope. Maybe if we swam to the center and understood the intentions of the foundation it was built on. Maybe if we looked at the ideas behind the madness and unmasked the core. Maybe too, we will glow like the city. We will stand out and reflect rays of sunshine the way the glass buildings do so on a breezy summer night. Maybe letting go is all we need. Maybe internal reflection is the key. Maybe dreams do come true. In the city I know they do.
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