Let me tell you this:

The people that say
that you will miss home
lie to the ones
who are the most desperate.

& let me tell you this as well:

The people that say
that you are leaving something behind
are promising the ones
who have died long ago.

The sun shines deep & well through the glass; the silver dragons in the waves of the lake flow at me, bedridden to their shore, a loop forever changing. I stare out & away, to the direction where I know my previous homeless mattress was, and I ponder, and I ponder, and I ponder.

The people that say
what I have said thus
are the ones
who will
scar
fate.