I have tentacle
s and tendril
s wrapped around that city
. No other place, and no other people pull on my heart strings the same way. And I'm homesick
, even for a home
that doesn't want me anymore or has no idea what to do with me. And I don't care and I am unafraid. I owe them all that, to give up this sick game of trying to forget and overcome.
Whether I live by myself and fight it out, it doesn't matter. I do not belong here. I no longer belong around thick creepers and aligators. Magnolia trees and horse farms. I miss my streets that smell of piss, where the snow turns grey twenty minutes after it's fallen. Where there are so many people I lose my breath trying to look at all of them at once. Where my phone is forever ringing, but these people I truly want to talk with. Where I roam freely, easily, having already made a name for myself bad or good. Okay, so my name here is not so good, but it never seemed to actually matter. Nothing down here I actually took seriously.
Family wants me in Arizona, my girls want me to stay here, but my boys? My boys need me....and they don't ask ever, for anything none of 'em, so I have to go where I am called.
So, old bitch, with your harbor and blue lit clock tower. Your pretensious flock of people, your musty museums, your jaded, jaded lifestyle. I want you again, for you are the place I want to wake up in.
Give me life, give me pain and I will find myself again. In the only place I was ever proud to be a part of. Make some fuckin' room!