You can be okay again

Allow yourself to move on.

Being okay again 

Doesn’t mean you get the old you back

And that might make you panic ,

But you are all of the old you

And you’re all of the you’s that you will be 

All of those you’s, and none of them, too.

The city has a white, angelic glow

I sit on my perch, thirty-one floors above it all.

Exhaust billows lazily out of most buildings

Creating a surreal scene that reminds me of a puzzle 

Or maybe a postcard.

A single jet is visible high above the city in the southeast

Its trails are the only disturbance 

In an otherwise perfectly blue sky.

A chance I set perfectly in my line of sight 

Framed perfectly by the east hills 

A sign of perpetual progress 

I sit here and stare, captivated

Chunks of time fly by as the scene grips me 

This is home, and it is beautiful.