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)

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