Warm air incases me, thawing me

Vog stings my eyes but not calling it my home is something I can’t visualize.

Taking comfort in tank tops and traffic.

Familiar faces filling familiar places.

Bougainvilleas creep through the walls

Shadows stalk the sidewalks

Faded murals decorate Ali’i.

The bumps and curves of Holualoa road

Never changing. Knowing where the drop offs are,

Knowing where to turn off,

Knowing where the crazies kill.

Why leave? Why leave safety?

Why leave home?

I ask myself,

Knowing I will.