Grand Rapids

I miss the rivers of

Sticky pavement

And the sound of

Honking horns

And the bustle of the city

Right outside the

Locked front door.

I miss the rage of driving

In a heated traffic jam,

Smoking cigarettes

Waiting in line for coffee

Or to see our favorite band.

I miss the bathroom stalls

Scrawled with offensive graffiti

Where you used to hold my

Hair back and tell me

I still looked pretty.

I miss the way the city

Made sure I was never

Truly alone

And I miss being able to

Call my favorite place on earth

My home.