this
place is
unfamiliar still.
i want to go home.
home is 2,000 miles away.
when I felt the cool Oregon breeze
I knew I had found it. I talk to my friends about
moving  making art and poetry, starting a new. i have
been pushed away from where I thought my home was.
I have learned to stop looking for home in other people.  home
collapsed around me when we slipped away from each other.  
We still speak  but I no longer cry when I have dreams of being
away from you. One day I will leave. and I do not promise to keep
in touch. Indiana is your home and to me it is a mass grave
  I will not allow myself to stay buried in.