City Of Angels Poem by Eli MorenoDrew

I hate how she talks of L.A.
It makes me feel insignificant every time she brags and
boasts of it like it was the only perfect place in the world.
I’ve gotten the courage to tell her this once,
All she told me was, “It’s not perfect, it’s just my home.”
I know she thinks it’s perfect.
It’s obvious.

I hate even more the way she talks about the Valley.
She hates it here.
She tells me I’m the only reason why she would stay here.
But this is my home
I grew up here.
I know every street and alleyway.
And I’ll admit, sometimes I don’t like it here either.
But I have to stay here.
So I enjoy it while I can, faking it when necessary.