It begins as it continues as it ends
It’s a street sign that looks different. A shop sign that’s changed. The renovations have been redone. There’s construction lining blocks upon blocks that warble your senses of direction.
And you come back, and you come back, and you come back
And suddenly, it’s not your city anymore
But you don’t think on this, as you arrive. You don’t think of what has changed and what is no longer there
Because you’re being questioned in a customs line
You’re being told these things flat out.
And if this isn’t your home, where do you go?
Because there isn’t here. It never will be, it doesn’t want to be. You don’t want it to be.
And maybe it’s not so much that you’re missing your home, as that home no longer exists.
It was a fleeting moment in time you can not go back to
Really, would you want to? To forget everything you have learned, everything you have done, and go back to the person you were yesterday?
Just think of what your bar tab would look like.
And you can long for what is gone, but maybe
You should not dwell on the feeling of your heart split in two
Can you extend your heart to somewhere new? Can you love what this has become, and what that is now?
And one day, can you wake up when you arrive where you are going and say
This is now mine, too.
It doesn’t have to be today.