I watch as I always do,
you, running your brush
routinely through your hair.
"you're gonna hate me when I leave.."
Loose hairs falling to the floor..

You laugh, as you always do
I feel your smile against my lips..
"you're gonna hate me when I leave.."
she pulls loose hair from between our mouths.

I watch, as I hate to,
you sitting cross-legged, packing your suitcase.
"****, another one..you're gonna hate me when I leave"
A single loose hair falls;
and disappears, like she did.

Loose hair on a pillow that was hers
and I hate that she left.

Do you ever get those days? When the only thought running through your mind is 'I want to go home'
But you are home. You are in your bed with lungs that don't feel like yours and a pulse that sounds more like a drum and you can't hear anything but your own intrusive thoughts and you want to go home. To a skin that doesn't feel like a strangers and to a heartbeat that doesn't sound like his or hers or theirs and you can't, you can't, you can't just simply 'Go Home.'