Dear Paris,

Baby there is an evil that persists in this world that has morphed, changed into a mirage of heaven. It's become an out of stock drug falsely labeled peace. They will wrap their identities in it until they no longer answer to names but to W.O.M.D's taped to their heaving chests, secure under their clothes and to become what?

Walking, breathing sacrifices? Ticking tomb bomb hearts?

Oh darling, I'm sorry to say I have an anchor heart that is drawing me to earthly things and I am missing what they mean.

I am missing the persistence to change the world, to create bodies empty of potent intentions and to dissolve the absolute hate that runs through the veins of the earth like a shot'em up drug.

There is destruction that can't be fixed by war against those who have hindered our spirits through pains we have only begun to feel.

So baby girl, I am giving you my, "I'm sorry", because it's all I've got.

Because I've been in those tick, tick, ticking seconds that never stop, the ones that put the years against you.

Because I know what it is to devote myself to a city and watch it crumble.

I know baby, I know.

So although you are dark, you won't be forever. Although you are dark you are founded on light, that's all that matter.

Love,

New York