Homesick

As a teen I wanted nothing more

than to escape the four walls

that I felt were suffocating me.

Now in my twenties,

not much has changed except

that I’m alone

most hours of the day.

I find I’m talking more

out loud in hopes of

shattering the impeding

silence clouding around my mind.

The walls,

they used to answer back

but maybe they too

are tired of hearing my voice.

I don’t blame them.

As the days go by,

I’m losing touch with reality.

Stuck in daydreams

I’ve had since seventeen.

I’ve lived in this city for

several years now yet

if someone asked me for directions,

I wouldn’t know what to say.

And I can’t keep blaming it on

a lack of knowledge

because I know that’s just

not the case.

Alien street names,

bus routes I have yet to memorize,

and people that don’t feel like home

is what I now know.

I ripped my heart out

and left it in a jar

back in Toronto

three years ago.

Now I tread lightly in a place

I struggle to call my own.

And honestly, I’m not seeing

the light at the end of this tunnel.

I’m homesick.

For a city that I miss dearly.

For the comfort of knowing what’s around the corner.

For an entire life I left behind.

"Echoes" by Jaina Cipriano.