I never travel but I'm never home
The sky is always alive,
but it never talks to me
the way it does with other children

I'm never the same person;
I always change my skin
the way one would change out of his clothes
I never get to love myself
long enough for that

I never get it right enough,
always with a tinge of wrong
and I get so exhausted
but I never talk myself out of it

I never travel but I'm never home
A stranger my house knows too well