Untie me

I have had this terrible urge to write but my thoughts keep being too vague to be captured. It's freaking scary to move to another country. Even if it's only for a short time. Even if you speak the language. Even if you know people not too far from the place you've decided to move. It's scary to start your life again. To rebuild everything around you. New places, new look, new friends, new people everywhere. The chances of running into something familiar is very slim. Everywhere you go, everything is new. Everybody is new. Every road you walk is new. You have to figure out how everything works, how the shower works, how the kitchen works, how the water works, how the climate works, how the connections work, how the people and the culture works.

Nothing is safe. Nowhere is safe. Because it's so unfamiliar. But it's an adventure. And sometimes it's good to leave everything behind and just pause to take a breather. To see things from a new perspective. I'm dreading going back home to my old ways. Going back living in my head without embracing the artistic side of it. Here I feel like I could paint the sky, sing with birds, write the most painful poetry. Here I feel. Here I breathe. Here I miss.

Not only did I quit smoking again but I have had to change my eating habits. I've had to change how I interact with people. I have to be more outgoing, but I think I really am that. I think I've been passive so far and now I'm discovering how I really am. Not who I am, but how I am. I'm still sarcastic as fuck. I'm still more in my head and in my own solitude than I think the people around me are. But I am a risk taker, and that's what I should be doing. I should go get that tattoo. Should go bungee jumping. Here people likes the way I am because they don't know who I was.

I ride the waves of feelings because that's who I am. Whimsical, unpredictable, deep. I am a storm.

Untie me. Untame me.

I am the poem.

But I'm still a heart. Red, bleeding, scarred, hard heart. I beat. And I keep myself inside a ribcage because I know I have to leave this all soon. I cannot open the door for a unavoidable goodbye. I cannot open myself to you, because the shattered pieces would cut you. The well has a lid on so you won't fall and drown. The student should never become the master. You would tell me I'm the only one you're seeing, but do you really see me? Is it because I'm choosing not to show, not to be loud?

It comes so naturally here, far away from home. The lines writes themselves. Here I feel like I could be brilliant. A genius. The pain is real here, I'm not numb. I'm glad I came because I missed the feeling of feeling. And even though I know it's not going to end well, I'm happy I can have this time to feel. Feel like I'm alive. Feel like I'm doing something for myself. Going somewhere. But not staying there. Here I feel more proud of what I have accomplished. And I feel like I could do much more. I need challenges. This is only the start. The beginning. Not the beginning of an end, a beginning of a start.

World, here I come. It's going to be great. I'm going to be great. And one day you'll see it too.