Where I'm Going

This summer is going by faster
than I want it to

I still haven't cleaned out my room
Or packed my clothes
Or opened the desk drawers to sort
through all the high school papers with
MLA headings and red ink

It's not hard to do it,
But something inside wants me to stop,
Wants me to forget about the place
I'm going to
even though that
place feels like magic

Where I'm going
I won't know everyone's name
and they won't know mine.

They won't know that
I am four feet and eleven inches
of mid-size university town
quiet girl
who writes
and wishes she could draw
and forgot how to dance long ago
but wants to sing

They won't know that
my first language resides in bits and pieces
in my brain
pero el español vive 
et le français aussi

They won't know
that I broke my pinky in 3rd grade playing basketball
but still joined the team five years later

They won't know that
it took me five years to calm my heartbeat
and sing a solo in chorus

They won't know that it took
me seventeen years
to realize that
liking art
and
liking science
is okay
and that
I am okay
too

They won't know that I don't feel alive unless I am writing
or laughing
or both

They won't  know who or what I left behind.

They feel so far away
and I am worried
that I cannot bring them closer
that they will fade away
or I never belonged
in the first place

They look like stars -- 1000-some stars
That shine with their new discoveries,
their marvelous, miraculous
minds

I am a speck of galactic debris
Trying to find my spark
To polish my glow
To learn what I can

But they won't know that
until I tell them

And I won't know anything
unless I string my words up
on a question mark
and ask