Here I am,
Riding the subway like every other New Yorker;
Getting where I’m going like every other person with somewhere to be.
I am one with the fluidity and I love that about this city-
You fit in because you stand out and the only requirement
Is Know When to Get Off.
I am here.
And suddenly, we realize it’s our stop; too late.
My sister grabs my hand and she flies through the door;
Me, right behind, barely squeezing through.
And then they are shut.
And I am realizing the real horror is not getting trapped in the subway doors but
Being left behind and not belonging