I was told of a time when I would feel small
when the birds fly past me with intention
when the grass feels sharper between my toes
I can’t shake the feeling that we are all alone

the strangest thing is that the people are different
bigger, in all definitions of the word
those horn-rimmed glasses and baby-blue Sperrys
scream at the top of their lungs this narrative about New York

but my fork is made in China and my spoon is only 4% silver
my virgin liver shrugs again because
I’m sitting in the typical American dorm
thinking about the pretentiousness that’s seeping under the door

the texture of a basketball blisters my hands
and the sands of time spill into neat categories
by my own making, things that are important/relevant/applicable
I never took the phrase “ignorance is bliss” seriously

when 7 weeks have run across the back of my head
when I learn that evolution dictates humans to be social creatures
when I feel the blood that’s been staining my soles this whole time but
when I scoff and sigh and lie there and I finally
see the irony— it hurts