I’m sick of my life owning me,
the things that I have done.
It seems I want to run away,
from the person I’ve become.
Once again I’ve broken down,
fallen into dis-repair.
but can I really give it up,
as if I didn’t care?
I’m running away within my dreams,
to where I do not know.
The sense is overwhelming,
that I just need to go.
The home inside my mind,
it’s become an awful mess.
The inhabitants long grown tired,
of this war within myself.
A suitcase with a teddy bear,
a blanket, and my fears.
I choose to take what matters most,
as I walk away from here.
I never really get that far,
as around the block I go.
You watched me as I’ve gone before,
but always go back home.
Is it the comfort of what I know?
Do I simply lack a plan?
I think to myself, as I unpack,
the suitcase inside the man.
~ elr
Image: ID 55535463 © Alien185 | Fotolia
Pretty! This was a really wonderful post. Thank you.