Day 3
Leaving Brooklyn...

Half of me is back in Texas already.
I am alone in the space, this room, a corner of the hotel that sits on the corner of 25th and 4th Ave and I have decided to cry.
No one sees me but the mirror and the walls. I've spoken my poems into them so they see me as genuine.
To New York, thank you. I will see more of you soon.
To Brooklyn, I wasn't supposed to fall in love, so I'll be back. Keep my toothbrush where everyone can see it.
To the Sun that hasn't come up, be quiet in my heart - I am still on the moon.
To Antonio who goes by Anthony, originally from the Dominic Republic, you are the NICEST taxi driver I have ridden in since I've been here and you say Miami has your heart. I tell you Texas birthed mine but Brooklyn is my boyfriend.
I have a few things for a few people in my backpack, a snack or 2, pen and pad... their smiles and laughs.
Airport. Boarding. Middle name still the same.
I have stories to tell. Bloated with stories for my autobiography.
I am same seat out as I was in. 7A, with my back straight.
Leaning...
Dreaming possibilities.
Waking in Texas. Austin to be exact.
I am Blacklisted on the bottom of my feet.
Jay-Z on my heels.
Rockstar... stunna shades... middle name still the same.

But Brooklyn, well, we've decided to have a long distance relationship...