his eyebrows said hello
and i knew i'd found home
a shelter for the night within his skin
a sense of comfort and purpose wrapped up in his sheets

the stale scent of tomorrow lifts and drifts from my cigarette,
and he's telling me that it was fun, but it's getting late
i guess tomorrow has come early, and it's time to look for another set of eyes to burn my image into

the neon lights from city signs reflect on the surfaces of puddles,
and for a moment, my feet are coated in them
stars are a thing of yesterday, in this place
no one remembers any of the constellation names

my feet are wet and sore from all the steps i've taken
but i keep waking up with swollen eyes
being spoon fed lies
about how this really is my home