Desperation Underneath The Ink Of Humility

As the wind blows

ripping fast across my back

I think of light, near and far

and a call to come home

It’s nearly eight

not too late

but I feel the urge to write

and call to come home

I’m here, alone

like you normally find me

If you kept a calendar, you’d always know

that I’ve always wanted to go home

As the twinkling dots amass in size

I close my eyes

and forget the time

that I wanted to go home

The fading, in and out

keeps me locked in wonder of their whereabouts

and I forget I wanted to go home

Lost in a forest

of thick brush

and emotional peaks and pits

Troubled thoughts

from suffering from your pyramid scheme

I’m dizzy

please tell me this is a dream

Freezing water

laps behind me

and as the wind grows fiercer

I tighten my jacket around me

I do a lot of weird stuff

but I had to come here

at this day, at this time

to let you know

that I’m coming home