Hundreds of miles away, my heart beats without a regard.

It averts eye contact,
dismissing any suggestions of interest—
knowing well that familiarity is almost as obnoxious as the word “discourse”.

It works aimlessly, wandering for a place to call home—knowing that home is a hostel full of ideas brighter than my favorite constellation.

Even when directionless, it still finds itself waiting at a door half closed—knowing the only safe space it can stand is the comfort of despondency.

It’s a man of few words,
But of infinite thoughts.

It still makes me hope from miles away.

I know that it’ll be okay,
Because uncertainty is my favorite color.

But most of all,
I can still feel my heart here.

It follows me up empty elevators,
And in between street lights that lead back to the only home I’ve ever known.

And I just want to say hi.