Northeast.
A Collection of Poetry by Simon Reckendrees
August 2018 – New York City, NY & Philadelphia, PA
New York City in the Daytime Is Nothing to Be Desired I Want to Drown in a Body Made of Concrete And Dreams
I watched them go through their self-cut hair and itching their back and all I could think of how brave they are what a wonderful life they built themselves not noticing the pain I had at the same time.
We broke the circle The one of love and loss We broke the circle With our hands and heads With our hearts and veins With affection and innocence We broke the circle We bent it to its knees We made it our own We broke the circle Let’s try to break it some more
Why do I feel Like the only person I can ever trust Is you Why is it you Why Are we Not a thing Why Is it So hard To See You In. My. Head.
You said we can see each other again We WILL see each other again But I am not sure I want to
I just need to know If I was the only one. Who fell in love with you this way.
Show me what it means to live Do you like being choked by life and never let go? Do you like feeling the weight of everyone on your body? Do you like something dark and troubling? Because that’s what this is and will be.
There is a reason to love something so much You’d go through hell Die for it Be punished for it Come back die again come back die again come back and be disappointed again.
Waking up together For two days Then waking up alone For a lifetime Sounds like a lamp That hits the floor of your bedroom.
Even after I left You cared about me And the memories we made On park benches in the dusk Talking about Americans and Englishman On piers around midnight You, resting your head on my shoulder On the El train being tired Squeezing our hands together so hard I swear, it was real It was It was It was It was
all real. It was real. real. It was all real. all real. It was real. r al t w s a l eal.
You said I should transform My self-loathing Into Self-Love I am trying. I promise.
The cracks in the pavement just Reflect your thoughts when you Stare down at them
If I could only bring up the courage to say What you all mean to me. What you all did for me without doing anything. Just leaving this mark on me for as long as I live. I love you
Why do I understand every lover who has ever broken up with me? Why do I understand their reasons? Why is there not one person I can say “Fuck you, I’m better than you!” to?
The girl at the checkout stared at my tattoos for too long She got embarrassed I wish she would’ve said something I imagined our lives together
I always wanted to be somewhere so bad That it physically hurts when I leave Like a hole in my chest A former partner left there An itch on your back That never really goes away I just didn’t thought leaving would be as hard as it is now That I actually found that place
Maybe I can finally say that I am strong and well-equipped To deal with whatever comes my way at least for a little while
And for the first time in my life I am not solely sad when I leave I am grateful and joyful genuinely excited for the things that come my way because I know there are other people people that do nothing but burn, burn, burn till there’s nothing left of what they once were it’s their self-worth it’s their love
The room is empty The halls are empty too There are crowds There are screams and shouts Whispers and cries But I don’t hear them I can only hear a sound rushing through the empty shells of bodies shattering them and covering the ground with their shards The sounds comes from across the city The heart has beaten ONE
The Northeast gave me love The Northeast gave me hunger The Northeast gave me disappointment The Northeast gave me fear for my life So why do I keep returning? The Northeast gives me myself.
my Depression got me here in the first place it would be stupid to think it wasn’t meant to be that way it wasn’t of any worth
Can I go now Through this door of the house I never felt quite comfortable in The only reason was you Can I leave this mind now of the body I never felt quite comfortable in The only reason was shame But now that nothing’s left of it It helps To be the one who is content
How come the city that never sleeps Never sleeps with you?
If I told you that you mean a lot to me And you saw the text in the morning I don’t know if that would make you feel good or not.
The guy at the cash register asked If all of them were hand-poked I showed him the ones that were Walked hastily out of the store And smiled for straight 10 minutes.
You are sleeping have a connection Everyone can see it, in the subway car One that goes beyond talk beyond thoughts beyond consciousness I wish you both the love you deserve
We are people who look at the screen and see ourselves in the background. We are not the main character but merely an extra with their own life, own romantic story & history. Maybe it’s a lie we tell ourselves to make our own lives look bad When they are actually not that bad.
An old man cutting fish yelled at me today For taking a photo of him. Maybe I should have yelled at him for presenting the fish As if they were his doing.
I heard the L-Train was closing down for a year. At first I wondered how to get to Williamsburg then. On second thought I remembered I don’t live here.
I could see the city as if it were mine. I felt so powerful and got embarrassed.
My self-loathing and anxiety drowned in a pool of affection, empathy and deep connection. They haven’t gained consciousness yet. I hope they die in the pool I built for them. Seeing them suffocate would be one of the greatest pleasures of the world. Am I that desensitized to loss already?
The only thing between you and me Is the Ben Franklin Bridge, New Jersey and the Atlantic Ocean.
The city lights look so grim When you know they are just humans Begging for your attention
I am sorry That I don’t live where you want me to live. That I am not who I promised to be. That I don’t have the same desires you have. That my hair doesn’t look like how you want it to look. That my feet are still sore and not able to walk where you want. That I can’t let go of people and confuse joy with pain. That I hurt people by not telling them what I think. That I get attached to quickly. That I confuse despair with hope. That I still don’t know who I am and what I want to be. That it hurts when people I love have something beautiful that I don’t have. That I don’t have a body you feel comfortable in. But I can try to make me feel that way.
Afterword
Dear reader,
when I embarked on my second trip to the United States, specifically New York City and Philadelphia, I felt shallow and lost in the world. Deep inside me, I hoped this trip would cure that feeling; but I knew that was wishful thinking. What happened was a story of love, affection, deep compassion and desire. But also, one of rage, loss, sadness and depression. These poems are an effort to self-reflect the change and emotions I felt. I will be eternally grateful for the things that happened to me in the last two weeks; thinking that I deserved to experience them is something I couldn’t do. I sincerely hope that someone somewhere finds comfort in one of these poems, or just one line.
please continue to love and give the best you can. Good things will come to good people. Continue to make art and inspire people. Continue burning for the things you love, burn as bright as the city lights of New York or Philadelphia. Because you could be the light that somebody else searches for. But nobody really knows.