I stand still. Legs give.
Hands shake.
Someone is leading me into a crowded hallway.

I just want to go home; I just want to feel at home.
Is it a person? The doors blur by.

Is it brown eyes? A laugh I hate? Pale skin? A voice I hallucinate?

Is it blue eyes? Trust? History? Half-awake truths? A lifetime guarantee?

Is it age? Wrinkles? A parochial comment? Gifts? Expectations?

Is it my childhood house? My current house?

Is it the mountains? The city?

Is it real? Tangible? Obtainable?

Is it comfort? Contentment?

Is it love? Lost? Gone?

Is it him? Her? Me?

Am I home; am I home?

Iridescent, black-iron fence
Clay dust
Hesitant spider's web, pulled by the wind
Charred oak
Rotted, frayed, abandoned mutt harness
Trepidant cool beneath the shade
Ivory paper glowing in
a sun's generous exposure
Retired stadium lights;
a boundary
Shards of stained glass
Vile, buzzing flies (can't they be hungry, too?)

Pale half-moon,
unforgiving hard earth
Serrations of grass
A thousand neon leaves
Inescapable chill
Pair of house wrens, tumbling to the dirt
hastening away before a greeting can be uttered
Cross-hatch benches; no spectators
Simple plucked clover
Asymmetrical gate
Impatient pen tapping
Barking dog
Pretty boy sitting alone:
are you as curious as I am?

I wander, fumbling my skin against anything that might give
When did this start to fade?

Why can I only find it on assignment?

I lose the senses I had as a child, to be replaced with this cursed apathy
I can't shake

The dog barks again
Can they feel it, too?

"45, good play."
"Alright guys, let's head back."
But the mineral clay persists in the grooves of my skin just as it does in the fibers of this page
Who can take that away?

Writing is immortalizing, so let me keep
this filth; let me absorb it, and maybe
it will find its way back
to where I've wanted to be
for so long

Life is hard and it’s rough, if you’re Christian that’s *****
I’ll be sentenced to hell ‘fore I pass Religious History
My actions are sins, so I’m forced to behave
Yeah, if my Dad heard this he’d roll over in his grave

My girl friends must be lovers, call in the saints
The teachers send home a list of complaints
“They were caught selling care and a recharged new vape”
Yeah, the stalls don’t lock so I couldn’t escape
And the graffiti is beautiful cause it can’t be erased

Rap by a girl must be a ****** crime
Guess I’ll have to call it Shakespearean rhyme
“Shut your mouth *****, you’re better off as a mime”
If there’s a wait for your opinion then I’ll burn down the line

Click on the ad for my astronomical sign
Hear about my future for a 1,000,000.99
Look for good music but oh wait, it’s AI
People on YouTube apologize and cry
“I didn’t groom minors, no, sorry, that’s a lie”

21 is still the legal age to drink
Kids at 18 in the army were thrown in the clink
3 years of difference between drunk and drowning,
Deep into misery the children will sink

The Government was built to work for me
But my food and water comes with a fee
You can't work until you're sixteen
Then how will the kids that are homeless eat?
History classes are taught to repeat

Growing up, you would fall in love with whoever sat to your left.
I sat beside the window, so I fell in love with the world, instead.

my heart’s so fragile;
i’m afraid to give it away,

all that’s left of me is
a sarcastic personality,
and even that is
starting to fade.