December 19, 2016

Why I’m Scared of the City. {Poem}

street woman city

*Warning: strong language ahead! 



I’m scared of the city

where no one has five fucking seconds

to look you in the eye,

to stop

and connect

in the street outside the coffee shop,

in the lineup to pay for overpriced groceries,

in the huddle by the bus stop.

Where everyone is addicted

to busy

so they can’t stop,

take the time to ask

“how are you?”

and really mean it.

No time to wait for the answer

and really listen.


I’m scared to leave the ocean,

where I get my triple daily dose

of serotonin

from waves crashing

into sand

and rock.

I’m scared to leave the hot sun,

for where I am going

the sun is not hot enough

and snow sticks

when it falls

to frozen ground.


I’m scared I will be sucked back in

to the smog,

the smell of rotting trash,

spilt coffee

and exhaust in the streets.

I don’t want to get sucked back in

to the vortex

of exhausted people who

eat work sleep repeat,

live exhausting lives,

exist in a dream

that is not their own.


We were not meant to live this…



But I cannot renounce them:


my family,

so I must go,

glowing too brightly

from months in summer

spent close to nature

how we were supposed to live.


I will go,

but you can bet all you have

that you will find me

in days’ time,

running towards the nearest forest;

in weeks’ time,

back in the land of rest over work.

Soaking in

waves and sunshine

fresh food

and eye contact.


Fuck busy,

fuck winter,

fuck the city.

You will find me

in the eternal summer,

you will find me

amongst those who know

how to truly live.


Author: Annabelle Blythe

Image: Andréa Portilla/Flickr

Editor: Khara-Jade Warren


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