I'm loosing sleep to runways, and following signs, as my head is split open by bright florescent lights,
and these long linear hallways filled with leather on chairs provide shelter to all of the wolves in suits and ties.

I try to call you but nothing is there
I try to call you because I'm getting scared.

My hands start to shake and strangers start to pass but I act like I'm fine just to make it home,
my feet become more heavy and your texts become shorter while I wait to fly home to feel just as alone.

Airports are lonely, but it's better than home.