81 miles north
From a familiar front porch
In a gloomy wind tunnel town
Where no one seems to stick around
Tell yourself you belong here
The overcast sky’s crystal clear
Tell yourself you’re satisfied
Cross your fingers, tell a lie
81 miles north
From the place where I was born
Where I crawled, walked, ran, drove
But nowhere feels like home
A guest in the walls I painted
A suitcase never fully unpacked
What if I can’t take it?
What if I don’t want to go back?
Can I hide here under the covers?
I’m tired of acting my age
Can you check my closet for monsters?
I’ve been terribly afraid
Can I lay here in the grass
And watch all of the stars
And listen to the cars
As they’re speeding past
Orion keeps careful watch
With an arrow nocked
The cicadas sing me to sleep
And so I drift into my dreams.
