Foreign land

Sound of autumn rain in my garden, 

Dim fairy lights by the fireplace 

I hear my cats’ collars and bells; the anthem of this home

It’s a moment of comfort amidst this never ending craze

A hot cup of cocoa in my hand

My loyal blanket keeping me warm 

Silent words hanging in the middle of the room

Like burnt out cigarette butts, tread upon and forgotten

Mystical remnants of a day all but spent

Loved ones by my side

Together with scents of herbs and spice.. 

As I sit here cuddled up

Binging good ol’ netflix 

with empty food plates and a timeline thrown around

I think of my privilege and of my handicap,

Of all that I was and have become 

And of everything I can dream to be

In this foreign land I made a home

Though this soul belonged to no land

And yet the darkness lingered on

Crawling from one room to another..

scattered but never gone. 

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