Before and After

"Home is not where you live, but where they understand you." - Christian Morgenstern

Before, scattered clothes on my bedroom floor, vessels of possibilities, reminding me of all the good times awaiting me after I took off.

Daydreams flew through my head, like spirits of the future, sent to show me embracing my cousins, my family; shy hellos, then loud, rambunctious conversation minutes later.

All that was left to do was to sit on stiff leather seats, (look out the window) and take off.

A fortnight later, dried tear streaks on my cheeks after trying to build a dam between my water supply and my eyes.

Touching all of my spots: the windowsill where I could hear the roosters crow early each morning, the bed that felt like a slab of wood, where I would sit with my cousins, as we wasted all of our time together.

The front ledge where I was forbidden to go on, and yet, I did.

All that was left to do was to sit on stiff leather seats, (look away from the window). And take off.