Weekends - Hightide Hotel

The winter cold came creeping in, casting frost over any skin that I had left

exposed

That season all I could think about was the warmth of a distant house and

distant friends that I don’t hear from anymore

Steam chased after my breath

It was getting cold and I was far from home, longing for a familiar touch or an

old familiar smile.

I haven’t seen yours in a while

This past summer most days after work I would drive by your old place in a sick,

nostalgic daze

Despite the heat I kept my hood up just in case so I could always hide my face,

but you were never home anyway

I’m tired of coming back to no one.

Back at home with nothing to do but spend

two lengthy days locked in my room

Alone again on the weekends

It’s got me worn down.

It’s got me torn now, between two places,

and neither of them home

I need them more now: familiar faces so I feel less alone