home

home for me being a
broken nostalgia without the
strength of definition, a dwelling.
i dwell without strength
in reason. my reason seems
to drive into strange springs and
tears away from that. from home.
from fear of familiarity. chasing me
away from what I've always known
but have never wanted to acknowledge,
a fear which has broken me into
glass tearing. i stare.
i'll stare.
i'll always stare, into that crystal
ball, and it seems like
crystals always led me to you
and you have always been home
to me.