The Wind

Burnout, lazy
loser, crazy
all the names
for what you made me

In the field
picking daisies –
but plucking petals
never saved me

A storm is coming,
sky is hazy
I wait for the wind,
see where it takes me

But it just
blows me back home,
to where I yearned
for the unknown

It whispers
in my ear and says
“This is where
you’re meant to be

You can’t escape
to feel free.
Everything is in your head –
before I leave, just make your bed.”