I don’t know how I fall asleep on buses, my head against the windowpane. I’m dozing off to the sound of falling rain and engines roaring. I ask, “Driver please, I’m the next stop off.” I know I don’t live here, I just want to walk with this bag on my back. This never happens when there’s nothing to do. I fell asleep again, day’s residue. It’s me and all of my friends on top of my roof, this never happens. It’s a relief when the road is long and my thoughts are longer. It takes my mind off being lost. But with the help of signs and good old-fashioned yellow lines I’ll find home. I find solace in the unfamiliar passing face. Around here, I’m anyone I want to be.
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