Written as a coping mechanism for severe homesickness.
–
"The stars are beautiful," I thought.
I grabbed my phone and opened the camera.
"Click," the sound broke the silence of the night.
I looked at the photo I took only to realize that...
my hand was too shaky to make it a good shot.
I was shaking inside out,
because as beautiful as it gets here,
I'll always know something deep inside:
this isn't the view of the sky at home.
Even if it was the same sky,
the polluted air wouldn't let it be this clear.
No stars as bright as these,
but you know what would shine brighter?
I would.
Like these two stars I failed to capture
that they became nothing but blurry white lines
–of what use would beauty be
if nothing of the beholder could catch it?
This land is full of beauty,
but my soul was never made to catch this.
It is meant to catch the beauty of a place I call home.
(But then again, maybe it's me who's too attached to the idea of home.)
