Boarding a plane or a train or a bus
And suddenly my travels
And my severe anxiety
And my shaking limbs
Are the least of my worries.

I can’t breathe.
I’m shaking, and it’s visible.
He helped me find my jacket,
A cotton cloth of little importance,
But so important to him.
And now it means something to me.

The bumps of my suitcase on a tile floor
As I pass by his door one last time.
He smiles sadly, and I whisper the words
“I’ll miss you.”
But no one can know.

The windows are spotted with rain,
But I can still make out a face.
A hand, waving out in the cold air
As I continue to shiver and shake
And crave to be back in the calm.

I’m cold.
I’m cold,
And I want to feel home.