Transatlanticism

I was counting down the hours until I took off to the skies.

The terminals and runways merge into one time and time again.

You find sanctuary in the clouds,

and solace by the sun.

So, I close off for comfort as I could walk for miles and miles;

and never reach my destination.

I sleep on my side without the safety of your arms.

The pavements no longer crunch,

And the leaves no longer fall.

The expanse of flatness we walked over, over and over,

Changes to tower over me instead.

And it casts a shadow that echoes in my head.

I attempt to make familiar feeling of this foreign scene.

Winter’s chill keeps my chest warm,

And five past sets me on fire.

Tangled in the duvets,

Gazing out the window.

The moon marks the nights we spent staring at the same starry skies that are now empty to me.

I am not a writer but I feel like you deserve some words from me.