A home is a home...no matter how badly you want to leave it....

Goodnight, moon...
your irradiated glow,
Uncover my eyes,
what this night will show,
A distant howl,
Trees weeping syrupy sap,
A girl peering outward,
Her house and its collapse,
Looking toward the road,
Waiting for a car,
Looking for the headlights,
Distracted by stars,
Her gaze moves upward,
No cars in sight,
Gently, sadly staring,
At the glittering and the light,
Its silent there,
Where her house fell down,
The blue hue made her stay,
Just like the stars,
And unseen cars,
disappearing in the day...

At night she returns,
Her longing still burns,
Her eyes fixed on the street,
She died long ago,
But noone would know,
She's someone you never will meet...

We will not go out with grandeur, or fanfare...
We will go in a store front whimper. 

There's something I'm not seeing.
I wish I knew what it was.
I wish it had a name.
Maybe I'm out of place.
Maybe Ive misplaced the world.
Or maybe its just out of sorts within myself.
The world.
I don't know how to speak anymore.
Every word has 100 different meanings
And could be understood 10 different ways
For every potential meaning.
How could anyone be or atleast feel comfortable
In this fucking messy trap of words.
How is it we are surviving with so much text...?
How is it that we use so much language....
And noone is saying....anything?