Mourning Skies

Walls

I'm so scared for the reality
of this all to settle in.
Perhaps I've grown so accustom
to shutting out emotions
that my brain hasn't
gained the courage
to connect the dots
of the constellation that is my new life.
The first, brightest star
would begin at the life disconnected
by miles and miles of highway
stretched out in front of me.
My eyes seem to not have adjusted
to the brightness
because right now
I'm not blinded
I'm only confused.
Confused by the thought
that I won't see my friends everyday. Confused by the idea
that I cant simply ask for a visit
or ask for a shoulder to cry on.
But as minutes count down
I feel less of confusion
and more of a growing fear
itching it's way down my throat
and settling in my chest,
clinging close to my heart
where I am weighed to the floor
by the heaviness.
I drag my feet
to make as much sound as I can
in the empty halls,
scream
so my voice can seep into the walls
stripped of memories
once enveloped in picture frames.
Maybe if I can scream loud enough
I can trap my voice
in the creaking floorboards.
I can't relinquish
the things I've left in the house
I always thought of as temporary
but only recently
called a home.
Even if the walls would scream
the arguments they caught,
even if the wallpaper crinkled
with tears shed in the corner,
I would never be able
to see this as any less
than a home.
But I suppose
I have to get used to things
never lasting
because the only perpetual factor in life
Is change,
and I know that things
either get better of they change
but adapting and changing
were never strong skills in my mind
as I stood alone for most of my life.
And the mere thought
of letting others in
where I am
clueless
and friendless
and alone
makes me long
for the painful but familiar walls.
But I have the lingering hope
Stuck in my mind
That I will grow in my new "home"
But for now
I'll talk to my walls
And replay the memories