For the Picasso-trees as I soar by,
The blurring edges under a new sky
And feeling as though I could fly

I could just float away and drift
Or dissipate as summer mist;
Oh, what kind of existence is this?

Only content when on the run,
A craving for a different sun
To light my walk, I am one

Who is only happy while moving
Seeing, exploring, and using
Travel to convince me I’m not losing

They call it wanderlust, but
For me it’s deeper: this strange love
Of escapism, forever on and up

Will leave no hollowed out space
For me to disastrously contemplate
The oblivion echoed in my face

If I fill my days with new sights
I can ignore my night-dark eyes
And somehow sidestep the fight

To stay alive, to ignore their call;
Distraction is louder than the fall,
I am only safe in unfamiliar walls

Stand still too long and people will
Learn my darkness, the pain that fills
My heart and they will want to ****

The hollow ghost, the shadow-girl
So I keep moving around the world
For safety, will I ever learn

To be still, silent and proud
Without voices tearing me down?
Or the thought I should do it now?

So I go in search of new destinations
Lose myself in some exploration
Try to **** my mind with fascination

I’ve been here for far too long
I need to wander, let me move on
Before my soul sings its swan song

I’ve used up all the distraction here
This is the cave, the lair of fear
And my nights are filled with spiritless tears

I seek something new, some unknown;
A perhaps that could finally bring me home
Or maybe I just don’t want to be alone

So with music, and books, and trains
And friends I make just for the day
I somehow push on, the only way

I know to make this seem worthwhile
Is to keep tracking the miles
And cities, behind my glossy smile

Is desperation and a need to survive
Although daily I long to die,
I am wandering, to stay alive.

*© Tara India