Where do you go when you can't go home and you don't know the backroads well enough to absentmindedly navigate your way out of your mind?
Can someone show me a map with a route that has the most frequent red lights and stop signs?
What does it mean when it aches to see that every green light you approach won't turn gold?
How does it feel to loathe the silence between you and yourself?
It feels like this.
It feels like flipping an hour glass over and over but the sand is stuck to the top
Like the digital clock on the dash is always seventeen minutes faster at each tick and turn of the tiny green digits
Like the four note church bell chimes at the cemetery forever
Like the CD is scratched and keeps skipping but it only repeats the same line over and over

Home is wherever I'm with you
Home is wherever I'm with you
Home is wherever I'm with you
Home is wherever I'm with you

Like the CD is 80 minutes of the same song straight
Like everyone sings about home or going there or asking to be taken there or defining what it is to them but you still can't find where it is for you.


Like the gas tank is full but the battery is dead
Like the sharp curves of the asphalt just take you in circles and you can't find the exit to the roundabout
Like there are no curves and the road goes on forever and all you get are green lights blinding you but all you can ******* see is red