Monday, 29 August 2011


I was driving down unfamiliar roads trying to find a place called home. I stuck my arms out the window to try to become a part of the wind to see if I could blow away. I watched my reflection in the mirror as my hair danced and my skin shivered. I watched as I tried to make myself comfortable in a city that holds my belongings. You always said, “Who says where your belongings are is where you belong?” Maybe one day I’ll end up somewhere where I’ll feel like I belong and you won’t be too far behind.

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