Where are the pleasant disruptions?
The ground shaking thumping of footsteps upstairs
The harsh noise of fighting cats
The rhythmic knocking on the door daily
The melody of disturbances that remind me that I’m not alone
Where are they?
Where is the petite living space?
The tight walls
The lack of privacy
The ceiling dangling inches above me
The comfort of knowing exactly where everything is
Where is it?
What happened to the irresponsibility?
The absence of resourceful knowledge
The mind more empty than my backpack
The short attention span
The privilege of immaturity that substituted responsibility
What happened to it?
Why did I leave my bothersome companions?
The ones who barged into my home like it was theirs
The ones who would beg to borrow my bike
The ones who always made me be “it” during tag
The ones who meticulously shaped the best eight years of my life
Why did I?
Why is everything so new?
The tranquillity of silence
The liberty brought by responsibility
The welcoming kindness of new friends
The feeling of craving the way things used to be
Why is it?