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I'm like a 10-way intersection.
Too crowded, too convoluted for any one road to merge smoothly to another.
Am a perpetual nomad.
A visitor of too many worlds, a native of none.
"Home" is a figurative speech now.
"Belonging" a long lost friend.
"Alien" has aged as my new nickname.
"Tribeless" is feeling too much like home.
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This hits different. I get it.
ReplyAlien, monster, pick your choice and have your fill. The unfortunate truth is there is no magic pill. Locked inside, you lose touch with what is real. The cyclonic nature skews everything you feel. Once touched by the darkness, twice forsake humanity. Try so fervent for a sense of motivation to harness, left bleeding on your knees.
Replyand floating like a stray plastic bag is the next stage
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