This is where I write something for you. This
is where I sit down and open a vein. This is where I miss you.
This is where I try and find the feeling of prickled skin. This
is where I push the headphones closer. This is where I tell you
what I think. This is where I tell you what I know. This is where
I tell you that it’ll all be ok. This is where I talk to a
stranger who isn’t a stranger. This is where I keep my peace,
hope, love and happiness. This is where the wind blows. This is
the mulberry bush. And around and around we
go.