I did not leave home, home left me
I searched for it again
In the moonlight,
Before the sun rises,
In every bruise that holds a tale, a poem,
I did not leave home, home left me
I searched for it again
In the nowhere inn where
I made terrible abstract art and hanged on the wall
Where I told the winds
Of how my heart cheats the mind in faking my own death
And I can't blame the winds for reciting the white noises of my mind, the disorders I consider sacred and how in my head three are singing and two are dancing
To the trees
From which I coughed cherries
Witnessing them turning into dust
I did not leave home, home left me
I'm aware of my horrible sense of direction
So I always carried the compass in my back pocket
Which I seem to lost on the journey
But
Little did I knew
' You build home only once '
- a quest for home
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