Where Are We?

The Last First Time

The air hums with the left over summer glow,

I close my eyes.

I feel detached and afraid,

Because I remember the last first day before

But I know whatever fear holds me in chains from opening this door,

I am more scared of what is left for me out here.

I open the door.

The heavy creaking metal sings innocence,

But I still feel the mask I have painted on.

Unfamiliar faces and pleasantries are traded,

And suddenly months of a frozen life starts beating with a smile,

A greeting,

And my last first laugh ringing.