When We Come Home
How and why we inevitably leave ourselves behind.
The branches started to smudge, then blur as they passed outside my car window. The moon, a robust hole punch against an ink-black sky littered with stars. You can only see the celestial entities this clearly when away from…well…everything. I haven’t seen them in so long. I haven’t been home so much. I pressed my foot harder against the gas pedal, ran t…