Home

I wanna move back home, fixated on who I call home, thinking about dropping out.

I'm done living for people besides myself.
I'm supposed to have fun.
New Year's night makes my toes cold, aching for someone to make me whole.
I'm stuck sticking with what I know, always afraid of what I don't.

The daisies aren't a metaphor.
I don't know what to do.