Baggage
A poem
I woke up bleary-eyed and jet-lagged, body aching from the long trip. The turbulent journey of soul searching had me wondering if I was glad to be home again. Being gone had left me wondering if this was actually my home. Instinctively, I shut my eyes again and didn’t move — As if I could camouflage myself in stillness and indecisiveness from the universe and dodge the world’s expectations. Just five more minutes. I cracked an eyelid and saw the bulging seams of my suitcase staring back at me. So much to unpack, But not today.