far, far away

Once I felt the building lights flood in buzzing beams

streaking past me down to the cold tile floor,

it was real.

7,000 miles to somewhere I only knew through stories, 

somewhere that was supposed to be my culture.

It felt too late to turn back,

to say "No, I don't want to move"- 7,000 miles ago. 

Stepping out of the bustling airport, all I could see was gray.

But now that it's time to go back "home",

all I see is colors.