I recently travelled to spend a week with my favourite person. It was a welcomed escape, a space that allowed vulnerability, accompanied by love, joy and peace. On the morning of my trip, I was excited to surprise her, but that excitement was cut short by news of my Grandma's passing. I remember calling my father and crying the moment I heard the pain in his voice. On the way to the airport, there was a dark cloud over me, I thought about the finality of death, childhood memories, my relationship with my parents, and life in this present moment.
On the plane, I listened to ‘100 Miles an Hour’ and ‘Covering’ by Labrinth while reflecting. In my melancholy, I wrote a poem about how I felt at that moment and fell asleep for the rest of the journey. I arrived in good time for the surprise and loved the expression on her face when she saw me, I was happy but I could barely speak. Later, I would tell her why I seemed down, she would hold my hand and console me. The remaining days went by slowly, filled with simple moments, introspection, and calls from home.
Erupting at the seams
Off the tower, plummeting
Muted screams with violet hues
A thousand memories disintegrate
Numb, light, and free?