The horizon lays neatly around your comfort zone.
Rooftops and friendships and a few familiar streets.
Smoke chokes your breath as you mistake comfort for a sense of belonging,
but it's easier that way, so you stay.
Well I think you deserve to know that they aren't waiting for you to arrive.
Though they notice when you're there, they won't miss you when you're gone.
The streets will be empty.
The rooftops will scar the soles of your feet.
Years will leave nothing more than a bitter taste in your mouth and a few tears in your lap.
It's not unusual and it's nobody's fault, it's a risk we all take.
So pick up your pieces and let each rising sun erase the pain.
After a few steps you'll realise that you will never reach the horizon anyway.
