So in America when the sun goes down I sit and feel the dawn rising overseas where I belong, looking up at the fading sky, the evening breeze brushing goosebumps along the landscapes of my skin, I see the stars etoiles scattered amongst the sky and I feel so shut up tight in this world. A taste of adventure has left me starved for the city that gave me importance in a world so immense yet I am left with the future clawing at my eyes to escape the time that lies with a clock set round my  neck. The seasons abroad bloomed my soul and now I envy the falling crinkled leaves only wishing to shed the old bits of me I no longer need, and I know my heart is young but it is bleeding out with a desire for something more than this tattered old porch where the light has left but the moon is aglow and I feel it in my veins searching, searching for myself searching for an answer searching for a reason to be more than a coincidence in a world that brought me you but also stripped it all away, and I need to know if it’s all for naught or  if I will withdraw from gravity as a constellation instead of the tiny grain of sand I fear I am because these walls are closing in on me and I am ready to break through the atmosphere in despair.