My Picture Framed World

Outside my bedroom window, I see green and yellow and brick. I see the cool breeze’s slight rustle in the branches. I see the morning light slowly illuminating the night’s restlessness. I see peace in a way that can only serve as reassurance and hearth; never calm. I see my childhood park where I had my seventh birthday. I see the firefighter station and the car wash that always makes me smile unknowingly. I see strangers and friends I feel infinitely attached to. I see the corner store opening, cars being impatient, and dogs tugging at their owners. I see memories of youth I have captured in pure nostalgia. 

Outside my bedroom window, I hear whispers of Spanglish, morning chirping symphonies, and early runners’ feet hum. I hear smiles and tantrums, and words of encouragement. I hear sirens, chatter, and a neighbor’s warm greetings. I hear the washing machine roar and the puppy bark. I hear my parents ‘Buenos días Corazon de melocoton,’ and the kitchen vent’s loud rumble starting up for breakfast. I hear my body relax and my heart smile in a way that only truly happens in memories. I hear myself singing a song of content listening to my home’s smooth melody.

Outside my bedroom window, I smell the bakery’s fresh morning rolls and my sister’s perfume. I smell mint toothpaste and dozens of curly hair products. I smell the cool air and growing garden. I smell the morning’s bright sun and blissful weather. I can smell the thick air of the sidewalks crowded with people and streets jammed with traffic. I smell scents of home, the kind that I wouldn’t even know how to capture in a candle.

Outside my bedroom window lies the duct tape to the hole in my heart. A feeling of love that makes me want to run far away to preserve this comfort. It is the lovely pain that causes my chest to burn with delight. Tears brim at the reflection of the love I have for this small city. The city that feeds me, speaks to me, teaches me, learns from me, lives through me. 

Outside my bedroom window rests my whole world framed in my perfect image. I dream of this feeling for fear of change. Fear that while I’m gone my world won’t be mine anymore.

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