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#abroad
Soon I'll be flying to the west Soon I'll be building my nest Soon I'll make new connections Soon I'll get new habits and hobbies Soon the unknown will become familiar Soon the strange will feel like home Soon the empty spaces will fill with laughter Soon the silence will be replaced by stories But now it's time to pack Now it's time to let go Now it's time to say goodbye to loved ones Right now it's time to prepare our future Today I carry both hope and sadness Today I honor where I came from Today I trust the road unfolding Today I step forward, heart open In the future the faces I love will be farther In the future the streets I know will fade into memory In the future my voice will echo in new rooms In the future I’ll miss the comfort of the old ones Yet the past will walk beside me quietly Yet the farewells will turn into whispers of strength Yet the tears will water tomorrow’s roots Yet the ache of leaving will remind me I belonged And when the distance feels too wide I’ll carry the warmth of every goodbye The past and future hand in hand A gentle reminder: I am never alone.
0
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 11:38 AM UTC
Life moves on and we follow
Glistening lights Peek into my promising future One you premeasured As impossible, unsuited My sparkling dreams That leave me believing But your uncertainty Rocks me senselessly I'm always wishing For a world beyond my eyes You seem unready To dust your wings and fly But it’s all i wanna do I wanna hum another tune This home you don't want to lose But I'm alone if you don’t choose (my way) I’ve told you before I'll walk the path of solitude I’m sorry, but i don’t have enough remorse To rot away in hell with you I’ll fall off the Golden Before i stay holding The place that burdens My true feeling of purpose You can stay here While my ship steers You will not hold me back From my golden years Stop wallowing I’ll grasp my solid dreams We’re growing differently Though i love you exponentially I’ll wish you farewell On your journey nowhere My name is Abroad, I’m well I’ll hand you my care
0
Nov 23, 2025
Nov 23, 2025 at 11:18 AM UTC
Passport Stamp
Scattered, my heart, my soul Amidst the painful abyss, I find the pieces of me that were cast aside, And I lovingly pick her up, Put her upon my strong shoulders, Wipe my own tears and tell her it will be over soon. But when will it end? I sometimes ask myself. I went abroad to try to find myself, But I still feel lost and so different— I feel stripped of all my identities: of Zionism, of my family, of my homeland, of the USA, of my hometown, of my old beliefs, my old values, of what Judaism once was for me. But alas, I have left the religion too, Of grieving the land of Israel–Palestine, Because it feels like it’s grieving me. And all of my pain, I see exemplified in their eyes, Through the hands of the oppressors That I was once a part of. It all just tastes so awful— The feeling of always being fully masked, And then when I am unmasked, I still don’t find my belonging. My longing to feel aligned Almost eats me alive. I was bullied my whole entire life, And the only times I ever felt relief were in my dreams. Maybe that’s why I’ve spent the last few years sleeping it away, Trying to get away. But I think it’s time soon to get away and to start over— Away from my pain, to bring it with me in my arms, To meet it with grace, to look at myself with my own eyes, To meet the pain of self-harm, of suicidality, And to say, I see you. It’s the longing to change, to not stay the same, To want to be alive, But to live very differently. To choose to live. To choose to find peace in small moments. To choose kindness. To choose to not be racist. To choose love. To choose to humanize everyone— Especially myself and my old selves, Who didn’t know any better. That’s all. Maybe it’s a letter to myself, A letter of culmination. I feel my age creeping on me; I feel that I must change my life— Not allow it to pass me by anymore. For I am almost 29, And I am truly away from my toxic, narcissistic past. I don’t have to allow them to bully me anymore. Silence is golden, And I have power. That’s why they have tried to **** me And dim my spirit— Because I am powerful. I always thought I was weak and small, But now I realize That it’s my power that they saw. So it’s my power That I shall take back, Once and for all.
0
Oct 17, 2025
Oct 17, 2025 at 1:46 PM UTC
lighting myself up
Scattered, my heart, my soul Amidst the painful abyss, I find the pieces of me that were cast aside, And I lovingly pick her up, Put her upon my strong shoulders, Wipe my own tears and tell her it will be over soon. But when will it end? I sometimes ask myself. I went abroad to try to find myself, But I still feel lost and so different— I feel stripped of all my identities: of Zionism, of my family, of my homeland, of the USA, of my hometown, of my old beliefs, my old values, of what Judaism once was for me. But alas, I have left the religion too, Of grieving the land of Israel–Palestine, Because it feels like it’s grieving me. And all of my pain, I see exemplified in their eyes, Through the hands of the oppressors That I was once a part of. It all just tastes so awful— The feeling of always being fully masked, And then when I am unmasked, I still don’t find my belonging. My longing to feel aligned Almost eats me alive. I was bullied my whole entire life, And the only times I ever felt relief were in my dreams. Maybe that’s why I’ve spent the last few years sleeping it away, Trying to get away. But I think it’s time soon to get away and to start over— Away from my pain, to bring it with me in my arms, To meet it with grace, to look at myself with my own eyes, To meet the pain of self-harm, of suicidality, And to say, I see you. It’s the longing to change, to not stay the same, To want to be alive, But to live very differently. To choose to live. To choose to find peace in small moments. To choose kindness. To choose to not be racist. To choose love. To choose to humanize everyone— Especially myself and my old selves, Who didn’t know any better. That’s all. Maybe it’s a letter to myself, A letter of culmination. I feel my age creeping on me; I feel that I must change my life— Not allow it to pass me by anymore. For I am almost 29, And I am truly away from my toxic, narcissistic past. I don’t have to allow them to bully me anymore. Silence is golden, And I have power. That’s why they have tried to **** me And dim my spirit— Because I am powerful. I always thought I was weak and small, But now I realize That it’s my power that they saw. So it’s my power That I shall take back, Once and for all.
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64
You could go on adventures together, Enjoying a hot cup of mulled wine, Or just share stories sitting on a couch, Having an infinite amount of joy Spreading bullsh1t 10000 km away, Finding secret codes, creating phrases. Some threads work in close range, Or they stretch out a far distance, Tying with friends, new or old alike, They melt the rock ice beneath, Within the reach of your finite souls, Exploring the walls of a finite home. They bring fire in your heart, Making it want more and more Thirsty of the whole endless world.
0
Feb 2, 2024
Feb 2, 2024 at 11:24 PM UTC
Threads
once you were gone i stopped writing and hand in hand with the words unpoken left the wholeness you had planted in my heart when you turned around i could see snowflakes imprinted on your back staring daringly at the little tree growing in my chest i tried to protect and nurture the words in my brain that after all were just the leaves of what had once been a seed in the form of a single look the cold that filled your absence froze the river that had watered my mind and each leaf one by one turned yellow then brown before it sank to the bottom of it all left naked and vulnerable, the tree, it died as the did the words while i watched the sun and warmth that you embodied get into a car and drive away without looking back
0
Sep 1, 2020
Sep 1, 2020 at 8:13 AM UTC
tree of words
everything happened so fast we cried i left and just like that it was all over like we hadn't meant anything as if we hadn't loved each other it was nobody's fault except for maybe life's we had promised to stay together a promise we couldn't keep i wonder whether i am the villan you stayed behind waiting miserable is all you were i couldn't watch and he made it so easy easy to forget how much i loved you despite the ocean between us you saw me being happy and you hated him for it and i hated you for not wanting me to be you made my life colorful it all faded without you i was scared of the dull grey and he sparked a fire, brought light it felt like being saved how unfair to want that i disgust myself
0
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 5:07 PM UTC
i am sorry
We slump, cracks in the cumin seed siding outside the police station, stale air suffocates the sun as it sinks below a creek and a trash heap visa papers clutched like the cloak of God, a 100 rupee note crumbled in your jean pocket - just in case. is it a crime to expect the worst in spite of order? blazing dry heat smothers our lungs, we resemble shrunken palm leaves held only by the stone above us.
0
Jul 9, 2020
Jul 9, 2020 at 6:15 AM UTC
a signature
no one tells you being an immigrant is being a stallion front hooves tied knotted course rope chaffing at your ankles holed up in a greener pasture gnawing at tender leaves while watching acres away those you love wild and free, wind whistling against their cheeks, a throbbing ache to be with them but knowing you cannot.
0
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 6:24 AM UTC
tied
day and night my thoughts are running in circles around you at the break of dawn i recall every minute, every second, every breath, every touch when the sun sets my brain conjures new memories intertwining the real and the imaginery afraid of letting you go completely scared i might forget the pierce of your brown eyes, the intensity of your cologne mixed with the scent of a gin tonic, the food stain on your pink hoodie, the raspiness in your voice when you told me you needed me too i know you have left but does that mean you are really gone?
0
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 3:55 PM UTC
are you really gone?
Queuing at the airport the flights non-stop Off to Benidorm in a football top Pants three quarter, tattooed arms Overweight Wife with ample charms Check-in complete & straight to the bar It’s only 6am but they don’t care Their duty free stuffed in to Lidl bags ***** whisky & 400 **** They’re now half cut & the kids start to cry They board the plane & they sit nearby A 2hr flight with the family from hell Hoping they’re not staying at your hotel You’re all on the coach now & on your way They smell of cigarettes & body spray He turns around in a right old state And slurs at you ‘Where ya staying mate’? Through gritted teeth and raw contempt You tell him the El President ‘Same as us’ he says with pride Stretching his pants to squeeze his gut inside The El President has lost its charm My wife looks forlorn as she grabs my arm As in the lobby with kids aloft Are 100 more slobs in their football tops..
0
May 24, 2020
May 24, 2020 at 6:04 AM UTC
Package Holiday's
right outside our tiny refuge lives a magnolia tree strong and beautiful blossoming only for a handful of days we find its beauty in pastel colors so brief yet breathtaking to be adored year after year without fail only in the perfect spot will a magnolia thrive, your grandma says how do you know whether you've found it?, i ask you don't until you plant it, you answer
0
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 4:14 PM UTC
magnolia tree
a little breeze tickles the back of my neck missing a scarf just to feel the winter air uneven ground endless bumps under my feet puffs of smoke attack my lungs consistently miles a day building muscles and endurance birds everywhere truly are the rats of the sky coffee con leche makes me miss home even more foreign words understanding bit of conversations room with two beds proof of a difficult time here sky below finally flying back to my world
0
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 3:05 PM UTC
day 100
I will miss the quiet, selfish nights, spent among books and TV and music. I will miss missing home while feeling at home in a foreign country. I will miss my time being my own to split between friendships, travel, or nothing. I will miss the feeling of my own body, free from the dirt of past indiscretions. Free to be myself, foreign though I may be.
0
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:17 PM UTC
Selfish Nights
In response to The posts From friends, abroad What clicks inside is To ask, What time is there? Yes What time is there? Nothing more
0
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 4:10 AM UTC
First Click
poking at his rib cage i thought of all of the wonderful times ive spent with him not knowing that this would be my last time poking his rib cage i smiled and laughed in his face he loved me the way i loved me or so i thought and the betrayal finally set in when the messages stopped flowing in and the block on all of social media shocked me as well until my friend had shown that while you were studying abroad you were going steady with a beautiful french girl
0
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 7:01 AM UTC
rib.
A teary farewell at the Airport, Fake 'good'bye's from heavy Hearts, Bags filled with memories from the Past, Cruising over the seven Seas, A new journey with emotions Galore. A land promising a colorful Future, fulfilling every need and Desire, In exchange of a simple Contract, Unlearn the ways of the land I Belong, For I am the square peg in the round Hole. Burning the midnight Oil, Stale bread and a cup Noodles, Celebrating festivals through a tiny screen, a fake smile masking every tear, Where's the silver lining amid the toil ? Oh how the hard work has flourished, certified successful as defined by society, smiling at the acquired Possessions, To realize materials never smiled back, I am now the round peg without a Soul.
0
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 9:51 AM UTC
The Immigrant
I am drinking water that is meant for the plants I am singing songs I used to sing for my dog but she’s dead now and I talk to myself while I scrub greasy pans, read messages but never answer. my vocabulary doesn’t stretch the length of expectations by now I know that my silence sends the right message, clearer than my hand-picked words when I feel my blood boil and my brain lunge to keep up I shut up. they are just waiting to speak at me and I am just trying to sleep
0
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 9:06 PM UTC
in-dependence
My weapon is voice today 'tis careless a spell amoungst curs it puts close friends in their places and worried (behind my back) It kisses with mischeif and muddies stray-fully My weapon is played a trial a tool to bring about my isolation Then i may exit without notice and unfollowed a relief, in release My real work shall begin abroad
0
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 1:07 AM UTC
Untitled
We're here now, and theres more than the two of us. But there's one feeling, and the same ache yet different struggles - * - We all think the same things, yet in different tongues. The histories do not include us. Our taste buds have had to adapt to the wind here, we have learnt from the best of the chameleons. - * - It's the same stage set up and the curtains were never drawn, but our eyes see a completely different story being played out. Collective whispers greater than a shout. Peace of mind has been a while, it'll take long... Home isn't where the heart is, when the heart keeps moving around.
0
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
international
Falling out of distracting thoughts he reacquainted with his glare in the mirror; he'd been somewhere else, undoubtedly lost in a moment of her. She too was standing in front of a mirror, putting her face on, yet the occasion was stained with an uncharacteristic frown, as if sadness had found her somehow. After many anxious intakes of breath, he reached for the door-keys lain by the trinket box next to their photograph. He cradled the apartment keys in his palms for a brief moment, then went on his way. She stared at their joyful pictures on her wall, a shrine with each an expression of love. She clutched his name on the key fob and left also. That evening in the restaurant, her eyes glued to his as intensely as her hands pursing through the gaps in his fingers; two sizes too big. He reciprocated warm heartfelt smiles, trying to keep it together for both of them. Circling his thumb gently on pressed fingers. Her accented cadence a perfume for the ears and her broken English endearing; this would all haunt him, these details tearing at the pit of his stomach as he languished in the reality that he has no choice. He must return home. Over the balcony wrapped in her anaconda-like arms, he witnessed her cheeks tear-staining in the moonlight, her whimpers battling the lulling tides and cricket chorus. She crumpled as a strewn napkin against his frame, before exchanging a kiss; soft and lovingly endured. The very kiss that wishes not to end but to stay this way forever. How melancholy it was in the sea breeze, to walk among their favourite spot on the beach; where many an anecdote was told, many a sweet little nothing shared and many a glance embraced. Right now with the hush of salt water lapping the shore; their 'Last chance to see' had been studied. In that instant, both knew that it couldn't be possible to have one another again. They stood for a long while by the waters edge. Both just as broken, before becoming ghosts of the scene and ghosts to each other.
0
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC
Last chance to see
Falling out of distracting thoughts he reacquainted with his glare in the mirror; he'd been somewhere else, undoubtedly lost in a moment of her. She too was standing in front of a mirror, putting her face on, yet the occasion was stained with an uncharacteristic frown, as if sadness had found her somehow. After many anxious intakes of breath, he reached for the door-keys lain by the trinket box next to their photograph. He cradled the apartment keys in his palms for a brief moment, then went on his way. She stared at their joyful pictures on her wall, a shrine with each an expression of love. She clutched his name on the key fob and left also. That evening in the restaurant, her eyes glued to his as intensely as her hands pursing through the gaps in his fingers; two sizes too big. He reciprocated warm heartfelt smiles, trying to keep it together for both of them. Circling his thumb gently on pressed fingers. Her accented cadence a perfume for the ears and her broken English endearing; this would all haunt him, these details tearing at the pit of his stomach as he languished in the reality that he has no choice. He must return home. Over the balcony wrapped in her anaconda-like arms, he witnessed her cheeks tear-staining in the moonlight, her whimpers battling the lulling tides and cricket chorus. She crumpled as a strewn napkin against his frame, before exchanging a kiss; soft and lovingly endured. The very kiss that wishes not to end but to stay this way forever. How melancholy it was in the sea breeze, to walk among their favourite spot on the beach; where many an anecdote was told, many a sweet little nothing shared and many a glance embraced. Right now with the hush of salt water lapping the shore; their 'Last chance to see' had been studied. In that instant, both knew that it couldn't be possible to have one another again. They stood for a long while by the waters edge. Both just as broken, before becoming ghosts of the scene and ghosts to each other.
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53
Tomorrow, I leave and dear I'm afraid that you won't miss me Cause I know I'll think of your guitar, your hands my hands your laugh, and dance Cause I know I'll listen to your music when I'm homesick or else try to remember your eyes, your words But will you miss my piano, my hands your hands my laugh, my car will you phone me just to hear my voice again Will we even Say goodbye Do we have to Or have we already
0
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC
Write me, want me