Home is that feeling that you get when your driving and you kind of sink into yourself, into the seat of the car and become part of the cushion and feel safe and it feels like yesterday and tomorrow all at once.

It’s that feeling that feels like you suddenly own a small piece of the universe, that feels like your front door in that its locked and its yours and that feels like your ****** car in that its yours and its falling apart.

It’s that feeling you get when you think so hard that you can feel every part of your body and it kind of aches of longing for you to remember how you are a vast vessel of emptiness, that you get when you cross your own fingers and remember how you are small and you are fragile.

It’s that feeling you get when you think so hard that your skin disappears and you flow into the air that touches the streets and fills the void in your lungs.

It’s that feeling you get when you forget to breath and forget that you exist until existing can stop because you cant remember the words to your favorite song or remember the way his smile can hug your soul and your brain says everything but inhale.

And it’s that feeling of when you realize you never knew what the streets you drove down actually look like because you are so focused on the roads and so focused on how to fill them but they’re yours and you’ll take care of them and you’ll come back to them and home is never being able to forget the feelings you bounced off of them and filled yourself with.