Laramie 

After four years, I feel as if I’ve done my time. 

The roar of the interstate I now identify as home. 

The brown grasses that crunch beneath my boots. 

Home. 

And yet, it still doesn’t feel like home. It doesn’t feel like home. It doesn’t feel like a place I want to come back to. 

Where am I? Where is my home? 

It’s not here. 

It’s never been here.

But the home I once knew is gone. Erased. 

I’m lost. My soul, lost.

The desolate miles of desert sagebrush mirrors my heart, empty. 

I turn my face towards the bitter wind. It chafes my cheeks and snowflakes sting my skin. 

But it’s all I can feel. I want to feel something. Anything. 

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