Homesick.

June 23, 2009
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travel and dance and my brown hair falls out of the elastic secured loosely behind my neck. The wood floors are warm on my toes, and this is my home. I can be nothing here, and I can be everything here. My daydreams are like a projection screen on the walls. I kiss the paint on the walls, I let the sun send spells through the windows. Those transparent kings. My lion greets me and crawls on these man made things, while I feed my plants artificial food. They are confused at my motions and turn towards the windows, the only natural thing in reach. I’m sad so I play my violin and barely close my eyes. Sleep will sweep me away.





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