When You’re Heart Is an Empty Room.

I’ve been awake since six. The house is quiet with Sunday sleep. I’ve been staring into my ceiling through eyes that feel a little worn and a little more certain. I’m back in my old bed, back inside my cosy little home from a large dusty one. Somehow things seem a little out of place or out of proportion. But I’m pretty sure it’s me who has changed.

My head is still alphabet soup. It’s trying to string together what my days would be like for the next four months where Political Philosophy and Democracy exist on paper. I need some warming up to get excited about school again. It’s a little difficult right now. I am off my meds today. I hope the unpleasantness don’t come back again.

I am home, back in the soft crook of my mother’s arm.

Somehow I’m still on my pea shell boat, ebbing along in the same aloneness. I can’t feel the difference.

Burn it down
Until the embers smoke on the ground
And start new when your heart is an empty room
With walls of the deepest blue

Flames and smoke
Climbed out of every window
And disappeared
With everything that you held dear
But you shed not a single tear
For the things that you didn’t need
Because you knew you were finally free

And all you see
Is where else you could be
When you’re at home
And out on the street
Are so many possibilities
To not be alone

- Death Cab For Cutie, Your Heart Is an Empty Room.