22

The natural next step feels like growth.

Like vines flailing wildly over the red brick exterior of a house, 

Embracing each side with arms of eternal worlds.

Letting through only small peeps of light that shine across cold hardwood floors.

That your feet touch every morning, that a bottle of Chianti has spilled across, that you’ve sunken into. 

Knowing now that what awaits it’s something more profound than even you could imagine.

Memories swept away with the same broom you’ve had since your mother scolded you for not cleaning your room as guests knocked at the door.

The sweet sounds of chattering and conversation fill the same room that you pace around in, 

Wired headphones tangling with every step,

The unknown suffocated by the music,

The anticipation of meeting yourself again. 

You walk between the here and there, 

And know your soul is safe to share.