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I stand still. Legs give. Hands shake. Someone is leading me into a crowded hallway. I just want to go home; I just want to feel at home. Is it a person? The doors blur by. Is it brown eyes? A laugh I hate? Pale skin? A voice I hallucinate? Is it blue eyes? Trust? History? Half-awake truths? A lifetime guarantee? Is it age? Wrinkles? A parochial comment? Gifts? Expectations? Is it my childhood house? My current house? Is it the mountains? The city? Is it real? Tangible? Obtainable? Is it comfort? Contentment? Is it love? Lost? Gone? Is it him? Her? Me? Am I home; am I home?
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Oct 9, 2024
Oct 9, 2024 at 10:25 PM UTC
Uphill Climb
I stand still. Legs give. Hands shake. Someone is leading me into a crowded hallway. I just want to go home; I just want to feel at home. Is it a person? The doors blur by. Is it brown eyes? A laugh I hate? Pale skin? A voice I hallucinate? Is it blue eyes? Trust? History? Half-awake truths? A lifetime guarantee? Is it age? Wrinkles? A parochial comment? Gifts? Expectations? Is it my childhood house? My current house? Is it the mountains? The city? Is it real? Tangible? Obtainable? Is it comfort? Contentment? Is it love? Lost? Gone? Is it him? Her? Me? Am I home; am I home?
Written by
17/A Yellow Wood
Oct 9, 2024
Oct 9, 2024 at 10:25 PM UTC
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