I’m from words
scattered on a page,
expelled from lips and flowing
from my fingers.
I’m from late nights
of heart-pounding stories,
my mother standing in the doorway
tapping her watch,
but I can’t stop, no
not until everything is resolved
and I can close my eyes to a welcoming darkness.
I’m from quiet nights
spent smudging ink on paper,
pouring my thoughts and frustrations
into the tight constrains
of a lined page.
I’m from hazelnut chocolate,
strong coffee, and suitcases.
I’m from warm hugs, happy tears,
“Ich liebe dich” murmured into shoulders.
I’m from airports and airplanes,
huddling under thin blue blankets,
counting down to when the wheels
will touch land again.
I’m from a language
where there is no “goodbye”—
only “until we see again.”
I’m from moments when
you feel as if you are infinite;
racing hearts, sweaty palms
and the type of laughter
that makes your eyes water
and your chest ache.
I’m from the heavy confessions
said only in the early hours of the morning
when laughter comes freely
and the darkness allows you
a sort of confidence
you’ve never even dreamed of.
I’m from times when near-strangers
become your second family.
Nervous laughter and butterflies,
orange juice at breakfast and
the muttered reassurances that
“yes we will be back by nine.”
Wet hair and listening through doors,
spending way too much for a scoop of gelato,
but most importantly,
I’m from moments
of careless freedom.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
I’m from words
scattered on a page,
expelled from lips and flowing
from my fingers.
I’m from late nights
of heart-pounding stories,
my mother standing in the doorway
tapping her watch,
but I can’t stop, no
not until everything is resolved
and I can close my eyes to a welcoming darkness.
I’m from quiet nights
spent smudging ink on paper,
pouring my thoughts and frustrations
into the tight constrains
of a lined page.
I’m from hazelnut chocolate,
strong coffee, and suitcases.
I’m from warm hugs, happy tears,
“Ich liebe dich” murmured into shoulders.
I’m from airports and airplanes,
huddling under thin blue blankets,
counting down to when the wheels
will touch land again.
I’m from a language
where there is no “goodbye”—
only “until we see again.”
I’m from moments when
you feel as if you are infinite;
racing hearts, sweaty palms
and the type of laughter
that makes your eyes water
and your chest ache.
I’m from the heavy confessions
said only in the early hours of the morning
when laughter comes freely
and the darkness allows you
a sort of confidence
you’ve never even dreamed of.
I’m from times when near-strangers
become your second family.
Nervous laughter and butterflies,
orange juice at breakfast and
the muttered reassurances that
“yes we will be back by nine.”
Wet hair and listening through doors,
spending way too much for a scoop of gelato,
but most importantly,
I’m from moments
of careless freedom.