i reside in
what i don’t own
what isn’t home
what isn’t mine anymore.
i reach for hands
i once found shelter in,
i slip on my feet and
scrape the bottom of this
circulating stream.
i once sought structure
in the scattered.
i’m carried off
to go somewhere
i do not know
that isn’t mine
that isn’t home.
planktonic // a.s.m (via wingedpiglets)