Stale muffins from a gas station
The sirens in the night
A bottle cradled in my lap
Is this what home looks like?
Screams of fighting neighbors
As I eat my muffin in the dark
Fighting until one begins to weep
I take a walk to a quiet park
The world is spinning
Or the bottle is just dry
Sit put on a wooden bench
Home feels like a lie
Buzzing phone in the silence
Friends come checking in
Worried for another night
Maybe I can make it home again
Wandering back
To the home I have built
To the arms of caring friends
To the love that can be felt
Caring words, warm embraces
Despite the broken psyche
Friends hold me up once again
This is what home feels like
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