in the static of empty air outside airplane windows, the swaddled silence of shadows beneath thin blankets, i wrap the little lost girl and she lets the emptiness fill her with a quiet she’s never heard. pressing a hand to the hole in her chest, she finds peace curled and sleeping. her mind still spins, more compass than clock, restless feet ready to race to the sunrise and god does the light spill so quickly. the world has never looked so bright and she wants to see it all, wants to climb the mountains and the clouds, grasp the 3AM starlight in her tired but happy hands, glimmering in her teeth when she laughs unafraid.
i am going nowhere to be found i am going anywhere to live
in the light rain, she hears her own voice and in tears, she sees her own reflection. she holds these freed hands to the past and future, cradles time like a child, teaches it to swim against the freezing currents of regret. in the lonely house full of noise, she offers her quiet to those who can’t shut out the screams, presses her cool hands to furious skin, offers small words to sharpen teeth. curled in the chairs are the shapes of her younger self and she tells them her stories, lets their sparkling sediment settle then stretches out her hand like the waves that reach for the shore, again and again until that child can run smiling to the water’s embrace, the noise fading away behind them.
i will not leave this place for you to be alone
and so, she peers out at the clouds, lets the light glitter over her kaleidoscope soul. her heart has learned to soar and her hands have learned that carving a place for herself in this world was never needed, not when family flows with the water and fate ebbs with the tide. she watched her first path branch into a forest, still sprouting new leaves and blooming into new stories. she lets the compass spin, lets her future shatter and piece itself together a thousand more times, tracing over the cracks with gold paint, sunfilled veins in the mirror. she finds herself soaring in the sky again, every flight leading back to the warmth of summer’s brilliance, the arms of friends, the comfort of a million different possibilities.
i am going home and living my best lives
Author's Note:
The three italicized lines in this poem were written purely using the predictive text feature on my notes app, and afterwards, the rest of the piece spiraled out of my own mind. This poem speaks to realizations: some as small as noticing my phone’s randomly predicted words describing my 2AM feelings almost perfectly, some as big as taking my first flight alone and seeing the vast beauty of a world yet to explore. Just a few years ago, I felt trapped in my own life and unable to see a future for myself. Since then, I’ve slowly grown into the happy realization of how much I have left to experience. There were many negative things in my past, but looking around now, the positive things in my life suddenly feel so much more beautiful and so much more poetic.
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