Home

Submerged within the black of night

you stand beneath the cherry sun,

and once again, I am a child,

turned to the wall and

pretending to sleep.

-

I arrived home in the rain,

a sheet of blame upon the plains

drifting in the breeze.

The plane ride home was pain,

my hands itched

and prayed for peace.

-

A fallen tree, there,

where my home used to be.

-

Now every memory

is paralysed here in the air,

somehow

the opposite of free.

Plans hang and stay static, unrealised.

-

I saw

a second of paradise.

All worth was vital.

-

But an expanding mass

vanished. It was all just

an illusion of safety. Now

the uniforms which pass me by

will scorn me with

their blood red eyes.