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The Misfits

What if I’ve become too strange to go back?
These are the fleet streaming thoughts that pluck me out of sleep at four am.
But I wouldn’t say I’m too terribly anxious.

Not like the months leading up to leaving. I was a wreck, all panic attacks and acting out. Going home is both easier and more frought. We have high expectations for each other, America and I. Am I ready to return? Will America deliver on her promises? I can’t stay here, not a moment longer. Four months and one moment longer. I hope it’s enough time.

What if we’re misfits who will never find a home? We’ll wander the earth forever, searching for roots that don’t exist.

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

There Are 2 Responses So Far. »

  1. Home is not a place you find, it’s a place you make. You will be fine.


  2. Home is you and Malc, sweetie, it’s all you’ll ever need. Where? Doesn’t really matter.

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