How do you not think of storm?
Wind blows the arrow,
i dont know where to go

How do you not think of storm?
Rain washes me off
leaving me wounded and cold

I've always thought I'd be fine once I get home
I've always thought of the feeling of not being alone
I've always thought of that comfort I've been longing for
And I've always thought it'd be much easier even when things are awful
But I thought too much that it all went so wrong
And even realized being at home does not really mean feeling at home

It was neither one nor two of ten


Perhaps none,

Oh how would I even know
When I fly in the face of a sparrow.

When the door closes,
and the light runs down,
Listen to your own footsteps.

beside is unknown yet seen
behind is felt yet unseen
across is seen but scares
above is something in between