I want to go home.
To the place I've been writing about, to Lyon, to his warm arms (someone who loves me's warm arms).
I close my eyes and I can see it. The people I'm with, the things I do, the space I live in. I can hear it, their voices, the water running out of a kitchen sink. I can feel it, the sunlight streaming in through a window onto a cushioned chair where I sit curled up reading, your arms around my waist, your hands on my face.
Help, I just want to go home.
Home.
Home.
Home.
I know it exists, but where? Oh, where...

I am going to go sleep and dream in a way that feels real.

Until I wake up.


Help, someone. Take me home...help...help...help...

(Photograph by Guost. Http://www.guost.deviantart.com/)