my costa rica
quiet itchy pillows
internal complaints about the food
I’m not brave enough to say
I don’t eat red meat
my hips burn
my lungs grasp air
quick succession
tiny little things that bother me
laid to rest in the air conditioned room
for a second I think I am miserable
instead of amidst good company
living the best years of my life
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this def feels familiar to me for when i go back to my place of origin.