Moving

Two steps forward two steps back  

I don't know what it says that a different country is now too close, that a hemisphere away feels better  Took a few weeks, but  

Packing my self into my chest, self contained and detached 

Difficult but retrospectively felt practiced  

I don't know if that's bad 

Am I supposed to want to live in one place forever? 

I suppose it's the permanence that scares me  

Forever new, forever changing, a self coalesced sphere on tides  

You don't have time to see yourself age  

Just time for others to watch it when you drift back, clawing at familiarity that you hate to your bones  I'm not afraid of your ruined expectations. quite.  yet  

I’m not afraid of them themselves, exactly,

But I’m afraid of never again reaching those invisible lines marked on a wall, of never growing back to that tall. of never mattering again so logic takes over and distances, again, and my feet are moving, moving moving  

And the world's too large, staring out from shore with your viens turned highways roaring in tempo  

That fact that it's smaller than space  than the stars you map  doesn't help, somehow  

On a certain scale both are infinite

you can live a life within a circle and have more meaning that my endless shifting But stopping feels like  

failure  

And everything is stretching, stretching out in ways  

I will never know 

So, instead of stopping here and leaving you with angst like a teenager trying to ask a girl to a dance, let me tell you something worth your while  

There are places where winter is 10°  

C, not F  

Kookaburra song loud, unapologetic and rushing, soaring over fields  

Sea flat and even under a summer blue sky, swallows dancing to meet the breeze  

None of these seems to be making an impression on me, let alone you, so give me a sec  I suppose 

What I want to say.  

as my chest aches alone in a humming city that I cannot touch.  Is that there is the chance to build another you,  

that the world is big and wide and made for songs  

Enough yous and stories and versions until you're layered like a matryoshka

Then finally cracked open

To who you always wanted to be.  

But it might take.  a little more time.  

and a little more pain in the cracks