Looking around as people walk by, I see them. They are human doing their normal human things as normal humans do. They smile at each other, flashing wet teeth and shaking cold hands. “How are you people so calm right now?” I think I mutter to myself. I walk around anxiously, unapologetic. Like a sea creature washed ashore, unfamiliar and scared. I realize I don’t belong here, I have never belonged here. I am a patron saint sinner, a dead seer. I have dark shiny eyes that dream of the future. I’ve always believed in aliens. This world is no paradise, I break with reality like a mirror falling to the ground. A million shards of glass reflecting myself back at me. I try to choke down my words because no one can understand me anymore. I walk beneath a vastly different moon and sleep beneath extraterrestrial stars that belong to a planet I can call home.
But somehow from there to here, I became lost. Wondering from mountain towns to sin cities trying to find a place to belong, trying to forget about home. I find home in the bodies of hollow people. Home is where his heart is, but I’ve lost that too. It is an evil cycle that numbs my soul. You should never find homes within hollow people, they’ll try to turn you into something you're not.
I see a sea of black eyes cascading into the void of space. A place with no stars but many moons. A place brimming with blood and milk; the beauty of the combination is surprising. I am realizing now that I might be trapped here. It might be worth it if I could find a home in you and you would let me, you would see me, let me be whatever I want and not turn me into some warped version of myself that wasn’t even there to begin with. I hope you will, I believe you will. After all, we are still miles away. I’m lost in these dark forests, you’re found in the desert polluted by city lights. Tomorrow the world is supposed to end and I am still supposed to function which I think is so boring. I dream of you often, in worlds where sand swallows us whole and no one can touch us and you tried to kill me. Maybe that's where my home is now, in an infinite amount of murders, a thousand deaths by your love. -s