I remember it so vividly.
A hot summer's day, in that busy city.
You and I walking hand in hand,
Happy and content as the world fell into place.
Everything was fine.
Everything was at peace.
And nothing was wrong.
Yet,
Long legs outrun short legs,
Causing:
Heart racing,
Sweat inducing,
People swarming,
Cars beeping,
Sun streaming,
Weaving in and out of narrow roads,
And then suddenly.
I was alone.
Alone in the crowd.
Yet,
My short legs weren't enough,
Causing:
Hands shaking.
Tears rolling.
Feeling dizzy.
Breath shortened.
People screaming.
Too loud.
So loud.
And then suddenly,
I was screaming.
I remember it so vividly.
A grizzly early August day, in that chaotic city.
You looking at me with pure distraught,
Breathless and scared as the world fell apart.
Everything was far from fine.
Everything felt like war.
And nothing was right.
Maybe next time,
I'll just "walk a bit faster",
Although your fast pace and long legs.
Outrun me.
Maybe next time,
I'll just "deal with it alone"
Although my shaky breathless voice says.
Otherwise.
Maybe next time,
I'll just "breathe for a second or two",
Although you will be right beside me,
So we don't get lost in the crowd again.
YOU ARE READING
Hiraeth
Poetry(n). A blend of homesickness, nostalgia and deep longing for something, especially one's home in Wales; an ode to the loss of our homeland, our language and our traditions. •I update this quite infrequently :(•
