It was too perfect.
When I come to think of it, I feel like it was a dream
produced to me by me.
I say people that I remember days in England, which is all true—
I brought back my 'Holy Crab' mag I had bought at Debenhams that I couldn't even pronounce, I have many photos and postcards that I got there—
But every time I touch the mug, it's repainted by my home-sweet-home atmosphere,
Every time I wash it, it's reoriented to soft tap water which is different from England one.
It almost feels like summer here these days. I have more sunny days here which I really longed for when I was in England. But,
When I think of a university café, I can draw a picture of red couches, tall wooden tables and chairs, a crowded café counter, and my reusable cup being handed to me by a kind colleague. I can even see people walking around.
But I've lost my hearings.
I cannot even imagine how other students are talking in English.
I remember I had a temporal boyfriend there and we sat on the couch together, talking some random stuff, but I cannot replay how I used English.
Did I really speak English?
My precious memories slip from gaps between my fingers.
Didn't I make enough memories?
Or is my hand too small to catch them all?
The weather here never really reminds me of England.
A blue sky and brushed white clouds, it feels like home to me.
Chill, calm holidays, a shiny ocean 40 minutes walk from home.
But something is lacking,
Something is leaking from my life.
Words.
Words formed my studying abroad life.
Words had straight lines, curves, and absolute wrights on me.
Now I feel, ain't I too light to exist in this world?
That's why I now keep writing.
YOU ARE READING
Daydreams
PoetryA poem collection about my experiences of studying abroad in England. I had to go back home due to the COVID-19, which makes me frustrated, unsettled, and unfinished. That's why I decided to create a poem collection although I only have one poem h...
