is Home truly on the highway? free breezes and fields from the passenger seat view?

when night falls, my soul’s never been so vacant as my eyes fill with blue

Home is where it’s always been

I never knew this before being continents away

before my heart was abandoned in my own lonesome bed

before accomplishing freedom (a deepening loneliness still)

and wearing stories in my skin and mind that

never filled that emptiness, never warmed my bones

for more than one night at a time.

Home is an assured place. soft voices and lightbulbs

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