My heart is heavy.
I would cry but I'm too angry. I would scream but I don't have the energy to get worked up.
I'm over it. But I'm not really over it.
I know that if I shake fists at the sky I remain a tantrum throwing child.
My nomadic heart wants to break free, find an escape, get the hell outta here. But I cant fight the pull in my heart to stay.
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