Leaving home is the drop in your stomach when your swimming and think you can touch the bottom but you can't.

Leaving home is when I want to get off the ride even though it was my idea to get on in the first place.

Leaving home is dragging your strained, aching bones and sleepless self out of bed and into a new one.

Home is a place and a person and a world and a word.

Leaving home is building bridges intentionally to burn them down.

When I tell people where im from my words so comfortable, warm and wet, are alien to foreign air.

Leaving home is saying goodbye to someone you will never see again.

Leaving home feels so far away but it happened 2 hours ago today and yesterday and is 56 miles ahead of me.

Leaving home is  hoping home follows you wherever you go.