Warmth

It’s hard to leave a warm place
In the midst of the winter
During an existential crisis
In the lonely days and nights of a land you don’t belong.

It’s sad to leave a warm place
The promise of significance
Unfulfilled
Wrinkled up and wet sheets
The scent of the lover fading
From an unmade bed.

It’s mad to leave a warm place
To face the freezing
Daunting
Vacuum of the world
As a highly functional member
Of a rather numbing society
A promising career
The fat wallet
The shallow draft of a genuine smile.

Warmth is not a given
I can tell you that.

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