The world outside her window is the same
Unbearably tame
Mile after mile
Tree after tree
It blurs with the sound of her heartbeat
It feels fake
Almost, as fake
As the perfect little house
And the perfect little yard
That her imperfect family resides in
That most people call home
She can't bring herself to it as she pulls off
Hurls herself through the woods
Along the thin dirt path
Up the grueling climb
To the top of the mountain
She finally pauses to breathe
As she exhales she grins
Effervescent and sighs
"Home"