I dropped her off on the other side of the city
Lights blur past my window
And I lose focus
A different kind of space travel
I don’t know why I drove here instead
The house on Ellen
I had always imagined it as a sad thing
Keeping the shape of comfort
Waiting lonely for me to come back to it
The shattered window
And the holed walls
The singed edge crop-circle in the living room carpet
I broke in
The place smelled new
Like fresh paint
And good credit
I am not a vandal
But these places don’t feel like home
Unless something has been broken
Tonight
It was just a lock
My tires hugged the road like it didn’t want me to be there
Like hydroplaning without the rain
And every red light turned green
Just after I hit the breaks
Like a bully placing a hand on my chest and then saying
“Nah, I’m just ******* with you. Keep on going.”
There’s this place I sleep most nights
Only
I am still in the parking lot writing this
And I don’t want to go upstairs yet
By my parking place
Frogs ribbit
They sound content
Though they live along the water drainage line that seems like a stream
Only there are more flies and crickets to eat here
Home is a funny place
So I have decided this
Not that I believe in God but
I’ve decided
His hands are as big as the world
So big it is easy to feel like no one is holding you
Even when you're being hurled a million miles an hour
And maybe that is why I feel I have no home
I mean
Hold me like you are small too
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 4:31 AM UTC
I dropped her off on the other side of the city
Lights blur past my window
And I lose focus
A different kind of space travel
I don’t know why I drove here instead
The house on Ellen
I had always imagined it as a sad thing
Keeping the shape of comfort
Waiting lonely for me to come back to it
The shattered window
And the holed walls
The singed edge crop-circle in the living room carpet
I broke in
The place smelled new
Like fresh paint
And good credit
I am not a vandal
But these places don’t feel like home
Unless something has been broken
Tonight
It was just a lock
My tires hugged the road like it didn’t want me to be there
Like hydroplaning without the rain
And every red light turned green
Just after I hit the breaks
Like a bully placing a hand on my chest and then saying
“Nah, I’m just ******* with you. Keep on going.”
There’s this place I sleep most nights
Only
I am still in the parking lot writing this
And I don’t want to go upstairs yet
By my parking place
Frogs ribbit
They sound content
Though they live along the water drainage line that seems like a stream
Only there are more flies and crickets to eat here
Home is a funny place
So I have decided this
Not that I believe in God but
I’ve decided
His hands are as big as the world
So big it is easy to feel like no one is holding you
Even when you're being hurled a million miles an hour
And maybe that is why I feel I have no home
I mean
Hold me like you are small too
I've been drinking
Request permission to use this poem