nostalgia

i come here

hoping to finally stop

feeling anxious for no reason

being a useless sheepdog

for a predator, a bear

to come home

smell the familiar scent of her pavement

after the rain

see the comfortable soft buildings

that are open and relaxed, simmering with celebrated productivity

colors and reflections that don’t make my eyes heavy

and help me love the world

unlike my host town, tight and skinny and frigid with rapid irritation

like a hard sore on the face

in which i live like a parasite

but these places and these faces

are too familiar

even if i have never been to them before

because my home is consistent

every town knows of the same habits

i am on edge here

as if my home is an ex-lover

that i am still in love with

my home seems to be holding her breath

anticipating a change of heart

the kind people and pink skies call to me but

i know my home must wait for me

or i will break that delicate web

i worked so hard to create after leaving

until then, I must endure my home’s

bittersweet nostalgia

downing it like sweet cherry medicine

hoping to heal myself

for now

 

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