Where are they?
The giants of my youth
So high they block out the sun.
All I can see is sky
It covers me from all sides
Like a dome.
As if I were an animal trapped
Under a glass of everchanging blue and grey.
Where are the neat beige sidewalks?
Manicured trees.
And flowers in a kaleidescope of colours,
Like butterflies on bushes
Tended to by loving gardeners
All I can see are the fields
Of indeterminate crop
Harvested right now,
So all that remains is the stock
That forms a sea that seems to have no end
But it is not the one with which I crave
This one is all yellow, brown and grey
Where are the polite, cold not-stares
And quiet understandings
The comfort of avoiding eye contact
And apologising for the slightest brush of fingers
The gentle everyday efficiency
All I can see is high passion
Nerve-wracking casual intimacy
Forced like peeling skin back
To expose the person underneath
Friendship and affection through vulnerability
I look for home in my surroundings
Somedays I have no hope of finding it
They say the world is globalized
One place is much like another
I do not agree
I have never left my home planet
But I feel like an Alien
YOU ARE READING
I wish you'd listen
ŞiirSometimes our loved ones cause us the most grief. And sometimes there's nowhere to run from grief, anger, and anxiety. Growing up can be a difficult journey filled with change, aches, and loss. These poems are the introspective thoughts and memorie...
