Sasha Béla

I should sleep soon, Lest I lie here until late noon. Yet I can't shake the little glint to my left. Should I turn my head and afford myself certain death? A star too close for comfort, I'd say. I face my right and only hope it may wane by day. One glows a faint green, the other with a pale blink. Should I allow my eye to wander for too long, I'd be driven to my brink.

Star, star, star, Fallen from the sky, Return to your hosts, I pray, For I wish not to die.

I can still get to work fairly easily from there, and I'd also still qualify for FAFSA and other student aid since I'd remain a dependent living with family. I'd pretty much get to live by myself, unbothered, with almost no expenses beyond the ones I'd be responsible for myself.

Plus, my late great-uncle's old beat-up car, which was bequeathed to me, is there. I'd need to get my driver's license first before I could drive it freely. My grandpa's neighbor is a mechanic and a family friend, so I can ask him for a quote, then get the car insured and repaired.

I think all I'd take with me are my clothes, toiletries, books, legal documents, laptop, keepsakes, and Xbox. Everything else I'd slowly have to buy over time or make lifestyle commitments toward.

Now I just need to reconvene with my grandfather, discuss the specifics, and take note of what is already there, considering it’s a fully furnished home that has housed three different generations of the same family (my great-grandparents, my aunt and uncle, and then, lately, my great-uncle). I’ll make a list of the things I use day-to-day here and see whether they’re already there.

The car is my biggest investment, since I doubt I’ll really have to pay rent, or at least not much rent. Having a car would be great so I can get more practice driving and finally be able to shop for groceries, appliances, and toiletries on my own.

Comforting

Marooned here, for a while, wondering.

For this life I've lived, long days have I spent out at sea,

In the ill-wrought lull of a gentle reverie.

I prayed — oh, I prayed — that comfort might abound around me.

Comforting.

To be so remote from whence I'd roamed, with nary a hope,

May an angel descend unto me; yet may I still clench the anchor rope

And safeguard my soul.

Comforting, yet so full of unknowing.

Toiling beneath a carnelian eye, so suffused with wonderment,

my back pressed against the sky.

O Mother Night, conceal the day and grant me this rightful place.

Loving you, so fondly,

Marooned upon my isle,

Where have you gone from me? It has been a quiet while.

To the altar of your homeland,

you have gone to live quietly, comfortably — for how dearly unknown you remain, yet still...

But I would wish to love you.

I have been borne of the sea; I need not want for thrill,

Only quietude, land-bound,

beneath nurtured palms.

I raise my eye to the gentle beauty of your features,

crowned beneath a sun-streaked plume.

Your hand onto mine.

Your warmth unto me.