25 is a funny age to be. Especially when it just turns the tables and you know nothing that you knew any more. Everything has changed. You tell yourself, “It has changed for Good”. And you define good in your head. Yet in your weakest of moments you transport yourself to the safety of two arms, that are now just in your head, but they tell you it will be okay. That your world is what it was. That you aren't a homeless wanderer, that there is a home, there is a pair of arms. They tell you and you believe them. And you sleep off in their comfort, only to wake up the next day and Break your heart all over. It’s the price of freedom, you tell yourself. This feeling of homeless, you have to live with it. And that searing pain you feel, you wonder if its regret or hope. But you hope it’s neither. Where is freedom you scream, and then you run. Yet nothing moves, and you wish you could run in time instead and days would fly forward, or fly back. That you could transport yourself to ...
n life as i walk on em