They told me I had everything I needed.
A house where the windows never rattled,
A life that fit neatly in a picture frame.
But my hands always ached for something else,
Something louder, something impossible to hold.
Now I move through the city with my chest open,
Skin humming from the bass in the walls.
Strangers press close, eyes closed,
Like we're all praying in the same dark church.
I never meant to walk away from them,
But I couldn't stay still long enough to be loved that way.
Now I lose myself under shifting lights,
Where no one asks where I came from.
It's too late to turn back,
Too late to want anything smaller than this.
They still wait for me to come home,
But I don't remember where that is anymore.
I used to whisper promises I didn't mean,
Folded them up like napkins, tucked away.
Told my mother I would find my way back,
But the road keeps swallowing my footprints.
I hear them calling through the static,
Soft voices wrapped in quiet expectation.
But I found something holy in the way the city