Think about the alleys and the streets and how they fanned out in different directions
Surrounded by familiar faces, holidays, and street lamps to guide us.
All alone with family now.
Not by myself but lost in the static noise that fills this house.
Assuming I grow old with no regrets
or failed attempts at innocence
I’ll pledge allegiance to myself.
Welcome home to sunken beds and moaning stairs and loneliness. Why am I still here?
Welcome home to those faces that turned away from you. Why am I still here?
I can't wait to leave.
I wonder what grows past the city.
I wonder what lies underneath.
I care about all of these people, but I'll box all of my favorite things.
