The Web

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It’s all a web, isn’t it?

Threads of pain, threads of joy.

 

Take away the tears, and the laughter unravels.

Remove the thorns, and it all falls to the ground.

 

It’s all a web.

Fragile.

Sticky.

But beautiful when the sunlight is allowed to shine through.

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Home

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Some people miss home.

But I don’t. I miss the road.

I miss the miles and minutes passing by ‘neath the melody of an engine.

I miss looking over and seeing you – sleeping, laughing, telling me stories.

I miss sunsets in Tennessee and sunrises over Chicago.

I miss scary gas stations at 3am.

I miss conversations that are as free as we are, and go on for hours.

I miss being that kind of happy.

I miss not being here.

Because out there…that’s my home.