How could you willingly go back? To complacency and cigarettes
to the home of your discontent, your itchy feet and resentment
every room has a story to tell you, a lesson to be learned
in that nothing you have was ever given – it was earned

Who taught you to love sunny days? To trail your bare feet in the river
to bask in fading light for hours, until your tan turned to a shiver
if it wasn’t a mother or a friend, it was in those books you devoured
precociously, desperately learning from pages and screens

Despite all you’ve learned, you never learned you can’t go home
you never learned that for the people you loved, you’re safer alone


1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “71.

  1. SoulStealer

    Ah! the last two lines really gave me the feels…so deep :’)

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