The screen always turns on
when I can’t slip into my familiar room
and the smell of good food covers up
the urge for mama to buy the next ticket home.
I am forced to watch different faces I used to know
with his prominent baldness,
her deep smile lines,
and always a pair of dark eyes reminiscent of mine,
slowly become old and
repeat that I should come home.
Out of habit I always
They will forever see
my crying face at the airport,
with braided pigtails,
and an unwillingness to move.
But they don’t remember
hands waving goodbye,
my too tired mama reaching out to grab my hand,
and my older sister by her side,
scared and confused.
They couldn’t have seen
blurry faces letting me go
turning into an orange sunset above the clouds,
into the warmth of mama’s lap,
into waking up in New York City
with colorful people moving at every pace
and infinitely tall buildings.
Lost through the screen is
Doris Chen '19 (BHSEC Queens)
Updates Every Sunday