I want to go home.
Not to the home I know now
but to the home I used to know,
I sit at home and I long for it.

For my naivety,
for my happiness,
for the memories that will
pale all others,

for the people who will never be young
again
and the ones that will never be alive
again.

I miss how bad I had it
and not even knowing
or caring
because I was happy.

I know now
and it hurts.
I want to go home
even when I am home.