Home Sick


Knuckles clenched white

throat like the desert

I've caught a sickness with no cure


I'll drive familar roads with the windows down

Searching for the remedy

A dose to make me feel at ease


Nostalgia isn't what I feel

It's not the memories that make me lose sleep

I'm still searching to find the answer I need


The aching in my bones

Is for a place that doesn't exist

And I don't think it ever did


And I don't think it ever will


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741