Ode to Summertime Insomnia

The days become longer than our legs and the nights belong more to laughter than to heavy eyelids.

We can roast our hearts over the campfire, 

but they'll never understand why we fear obscurity more than death.

The stars read our tears and tell us that wanderlust was always a myth,

and we'll all find Polaris eventually

because north may never be the way home,

but home is only where the heart is until it gets sick of your indecision.

We'll go south and southwest because our feet never had a mind of their own.

Certainty lies in bed with confusion, 

but their skin never touches while the world calls our tongues unstable.

We inhale truth like a child, 

but we only expel CO2 and a wish for the genie we never believed would grant it.

Someone tell me that clouds will never be obselete when all I've ever wanted was to fly,

because I'm no romantic,

and dreams are for the peaceful.

--Erin