Jul 28
Fiona Ella's picture

in between

everyone said i’d change
while i was away. 
i couldn’t imagine being anybody different
just like you never notice what’s changed
until you look back and see
it’s not the same anymore. 
have i changed?
have I become someone new
so caught up in the chaos
that i failed to notice?
because i look back
and around
and i still don’t know where i fit. 
here or there,
at home or away
i spent a month surrounded by people my own age
but i never quite matched
they were too strange
but it’s been long enough
and busy enough
that i can’t fully imagine
what things were like before
whether i’m the same frightened girl
in a new york airport with an overpacked backpack,
a banana,
two bags of granola and no plan
or whether she’s somewhere different
eating granola and fearing the worst. 
in a way i almost wonder if i’ll go home
only to find i’m the wrong shape and size for it now,
good at adapting but not good enough
and just stuck in between. 

at least i’ll be back to having midsomer murders. 

So i’m entering my last week on this trip and I was listening to some depressing music and having existential thoughts while alone in a hotel room at midnight, so I thought I’d share them. It’s more train of thought than an actual poems