13
POETRY
What I Saw
I looked out the window from my seat,
the faint flickers of hope disappearing before my very eyes.
My feet barely brushed against the floor.
I sighed to myself and leaned back, staring off
into the vast nothingness of the deep black emptiness.
I closed the windshields of my pupils and drifted off
into the yellow-tinted memories of my childhood.
…
The automatic sliding doors of JFK, stained with fingerprints,
opened as I walked through with my pink luggage in hand.
The time was 6:49, and the cotton candy skies were tinted with hues of pink.
In this foreign place, I wanted nothing more than to return to my familiar pink bedroom.
I took in a deep breath of air, only to cough in disgust
as the air of busy NYC was truly not the same as that of back home.
I wanted to rest my heavy head against the warm embrace of my mom.
But of course, there was no one to truly comfort me in the time I needed it most-- now.
I checked my phone.
6:52.
It must be 3:52 back at home.. I wonder what my mom is doing..
…
As I walked through the busy streets of Manhattan,
I saw bickering families, I smiled in envy.
I saw the familiar gray pigeons pecking at the sidewalk, I smiled.
I saw the flushed faces of couples running past Central Park. I smiled.
I saw the bleak gray house that I would soon call my home. My smile faded.
…
How can a child truly feel lost? How can a nine-year-old truly feel numb and empty?
No. I wasn’t empty. I plastered on a cardboard smile as I climbed into bed.
I smiled to myself and whispered goodnight to my stuffed bunny,
As I slowly lifted up,
My tear drenched blanket.