Wanderlust

By god, I want to get out of here.
Yet, at the same time, I don't.
I want to flee down my street, turn right at some random intersection
and just run.
I want to feel the wind in my hair
as I run toward the sunset, away from things I knew
and closer to things I don't.

However,
there's always a sense of belongingness at home,
something I have yet to replicate somewhere else.
Though I suppose, at college, I'll learn another definition of home.
I want to be free, to go wherever I want.
I want to be in love.
I want to be happy.

My stomach hungers for those quick breaths taken
at the top of a cliff before I'm about to jump into water so many feet below.
My stomach hungers for some quick, carressing touches,
letting me know everything's alright and it will always be that way.
My stomach hungers for smiles, for laughter, for enjoyment and fufillment
just to see that I still, at heart, am a people pleaser.