There's this window where I sleep,
and I open the blinds in the daytime to let a little sunshine in.
Lately, though, the light isn't as bright as it was,
and the room is grey in shadows,
reminding me of home and things she didn't like.

I am having a bad day.
It's too much to be gone for so long,
without visits or hope of going home.
It's too much to hold.

I took a nap to cure aching eyes,
trying to convince myself before I fell asleep
that I was home, in my bed,
laying on my side, delaying my life,
so that when I woke up,
I would be in my room, at my house, in Honey Creek.

Lately, I lose my head for nothing;
Go spinning dizzy, jumping out of my skin, at the littlest thing.
Drink tea and pace the room, cold
with phantom breezes turning to ice the heat settled at the back of my neck,
to try to settle myself inside again.

I just want to go home,
and I am helpless in getting there.
I don't want to do this much longer;
it makes me so tired.

© Copyright 2009 Abby Almon