you’re doing it again
looking through me instead of at me
remembering instead of experiencing
where is your passion?
did it burn in the fire
or wither in the cold?
it’s never felt like home here
the empty streets, the paranoid people, the identical houses
the air is different
and every scenic view is ruined by the insidiousness it harbors
nothing holds me to this place
it all pushes
pushes me away, pushes me backwards
until it all feels unreal;
until i’m truly home