throwaway your magic
this place has everything i’ve ever wanted
peach blossoms are being biked down to mu favorite lakehouse
the air is cool but the sun’s hellfire
and im writing this by my window
scared of a rapist that might climb in through—
i’m back home
the lakes that resemble my fingers
are frozen
hot coffee doesn’t taste the same as it used to and im alone
i can’t miss a place more than a person
it made sense at one point
but doesn’t anymore
i miss it back home
i’m homesick—
again.
can’t find a realm to belong to
i’m nomadic cunt that can’t find a place to stay in
i can’t find a place that i like to call home