Writing

Warm,

toasty,

happy in my

cocoon of solitude

where no one bothers me

while I read and snuggle by myself,

wrapped up in blankets

hidden in pillows

engulfed in stuffed animals.

Peace,

They came to this country

Seeking a better life.

They started

With a suitcase and

A one-way ticket.

They said goodbye to

Their friends

I love this feeling.

The wind on my face,

The fire under my skin

Doused by the rain.

The ominous clouds overhead.

My natural state it what the storm is,

Right now.

It's just how I've always been.

I walk into the building, greeting my friends

we talk to one another, and we talk about our weekends

We are called into the theater to begin our class

but when she said we had to sing, i was a bit nervous, but alas.

Some of us

will push and push to get closer

others

will nudge gently and give up

but I don't try to do either

I want to wait patiently until you let me in

closer

before you close up

I have been thinking a lot after reading Orwell’s 1984– even though it's the one thing you're not supposed to do in that story.