It was all the things you wanted it to be, then, all the things you wished for. It was the delicious itch you go to scratch, that lies under the skin you can't reach, so the itch becomes something unbearable. It told you what you most want is what you most can't have. And what you most can't have is what you already had, and lost. It was the song of all the promises I failed to keep. And it told me I don't really want to go home.














