She went to this broken place
Everything’s fractured, ten thousand mirrors. Not a single one intact. Some are shattered and obvious to tiptoe around. Most are little tricksters. Just a little crack here and there, a little sliver off the top and suddenly you can’t see. But there’s someone there. Who is she?
Why does it take so long to return?
Where is that path, she wonders. Will there be one for me?
She can never go home.
But desperately knowing that home is what she needs, she seeks
Outside, outside
Her first places that
Must be born and populated within.
He takes for granted
That he feels at home anywhere he goes
She worries that she may never know the place.
So she keeps running
Not away, though that’s what he sees.
But run
Running to the place
Where she might find
What she’s not yet seen
That last shred of belief
That she will know it when she arrives.
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