Wanderlust

By god, I want to get out of here.
Yet, at the same time, I don't.
I want to flee down my street, turn right at some random intersection
and just run.
I want to feel the wind in my hair
as I run toward the sunset, away from things I knew
and closer to things I don't.

However,
there's always a sense of belongingness at home,
something I have yet to replicate somewhere else.
Though I suppose, at college, I'll learn another definition of home.
I want to be free, to go wherever I want.
I want to be in love.
I want to be happy.

My stomach hungers for those quick breaths taken
at the top of a cliff before I'm about to jump into water so many feet below.
My stomach hungers for some quick, carressing touches,
letting me know everything's alright and it will always be that way.
My stomach hungers for smiles, for laughter, for enjoyment and fufillment
just to see that I still, at heart, am a people pleaser.

Abriatis

NY

YWP Alumni

More by Abriatis

  • i am me.

    it's 12am on nine-eleven-twenty-twenty.
    my name is rowan, and i am eighteen.
    i have struggled. i have cried. i did not think i'd make it this far.
    i did not think i'd do half the things i have.
  • nine-eleven

    to think that i will be a legal adult tomorrow.
    i could vote. i could buy fish at petsmart.
    i could apply to places like aldi's and tractor supply.

    my birthday, for me, has always been tinged with sadness.
  • placidity

    i watch the numbers tick up.
    i read the headlines.
    suny oneonta shuts down for the semester -
    six hundred cases.

    i go outside.
    i see the masks, worn properly or not.
    the spraying of hand sanitizer,