Named After Myself

The soul belongs

to the place where it grows.

I grew here.

And I broke here too.

Life is strange in a lot of ways.

The city I named after a person

might haunt me forever.

Maybe I should have named it after myself—

because now

I am the one haunting me.

In the midst of the night.

In the pale morning daylight.

In the beauty of nature.

In the love of the universe.

And in the darkness of my own soul.

The color it began with

was very pure—

and still,

haunting.