You can feel the history,
It surrounds at ev’ry turn,
All starting with simple words,
Not a popular nickname,
Yet it truthfully remains,
As words cover The District,
Physical and symbolic,
Pay attention to who spoke,
Which perspectives are shown,
Dig deeper to find it all,
Not all cheerful to learn of,
Yet all crucial to learn from.
The fifty states stand in awe,
Accompanying small spouts,
Cultivating a large trajectory.
Not waiting for each others’ approval,
They continue the job they were made for,
Designating their unique journeys’ place.
The memorial fountain never ends,
Even enclosed by the dead of night,
Replenishing over and over again.
Moving across the country during a pandemic:
Upon my arrival, matters are far from normal.
History usually hectic with tourists, deserted.
Spots typically vibrating with nightlife, neglected.
It’s more than okay.
Exploring on one’s own,
Recreating your life,
Saving what helped,
Tossing what hurt,
Adding what’s new,
In less than a month,
It can feel like home.
Brittan began writing poetry in June 2020, when she was overwhelmed by emotion upon remembering events previously hidden by dissociative amnesia. She uses poetry as a therapeutic exercise when revisiting homophobic traumatic memories and describing life with BPD & Bipolar 2. She uses poetry as a medium for self-expression when discussing Buddhism, lesbianism, and platonic love.
One thought on ““The City of Words””
“Pay attention to who spoke.” Yes.
I love the last few lines as well. I’m glad you’re savoring the good and making another home. Love you!
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