Walking through home

I walked the same roads 

I had before,

but the well worn grooves 

where my feet went 

were gone.

And whether or not 

the weather had worn them away

Or people had erased them, 

I could not say

I only knew 

that it had changed.

Or maybe the roads were no different.

Maybe the place I was

had stayed the same

and it was I who was ignorant to the way things were.

Maybe the screen of my phone had been tinted rose this whole time.

Maybe the photos I looked at on those grey days

to give myself a sense of grounding had always had sepia overtones.

Maybe it had always been this way.

They say “absence makes the heart grow fonder”

but they never talk about the distance.

That the opportunity for a bird’s eye view may make the mind think twice.

That the soul yearns for familiarity and comfort but the familiar may not be comfortable anymore.

The heart wants what the heart wants 

but wants and needs are sometimes forged with jagged edges that don’t always meet neatly.

Sometimes there is a disconnect 

that we don’t care to admit

and that’s ok because we are all human.

I wanted to need you, 

it’s true 

but I can’t keep doing this 

if all you ever make me is blue.

You see,

I walked the same roads 

I had before.

Trying to find where I could go.

I didn’t know what had happened

And even though the streets had changed,

it was mostly my steps that didn’t sound the same.