I Can Go Anywhere

I can go anywhere I want—

not just home,

not just the corners that know my name.

I can step into streets I’ve never walked,

breathe air that smells like someone else’s story,

listen to voices that are not mine

but make my heart beat in rhythm with theirs.

I can wander through cities of light and shadow,

sit on benches that have held strangers’ dreams,

watch the sunset spill over rooftops

and feel—somehow—the weight of my own.

I can carry my past quietly in my pocket,

and still run,

still leap,

still feel the thrill of being untethered.

I can belong nowhere and everywhere at once,

because the world is wide,

and I am wide enough to hold it all.

And when I return,

home is just a word

that whispers,

“I waited for you.”