You want to know where I am in life,
And I hesitate to say that I am anywhere.

I want to drag my fingers across the skin
on your back
And pray that you never leave
That I never leave
Even though I have already left.

You ask me how I am and I don’t know how
to tell you that my eyes have grown tired
from seeing too much
That my back is aching from carrying the
weight of all the things I’ve done wrong
And my fingers are shaking because they
are still in withdrawal from remembering
what it was like to hold your hand.

I think I’ve lost all sense of direction
And if there’s a compass inside of me
it might be broken
Because I’ve spent months walking
aimlessly around myself
And I haven’t found anything yet.