homesick.

picture this,
a million souls under
a starless sky next to
waves high, so high and
the shore so quiet

picture this,
this home amongst one too many
twisted alleys and rotting sewage
smells and thick smoke on
your face, your clothes clinging
with a day's grime.

picture this,
the summer monsoon
a little too late, inconvenient
and ugly as soon as it touches
roads the tar falling apart,
late afternoon traffic and acid rain
on skin.

picture this,
the smell of summer and salt,
the warm evening breeze and scents
you find here, just here,
on rooftops as you smoke
a guiltily hidden cigarette.

now picture this,
your soul in that grime,
your heart in those waves and
home in those chaos,
not in this civilized, beautiful valley but
in that debris of too much falling apart
and too little coming back.

picture this, picture this, picture this.