sometimes I can't tell
if it's homesickness
or nausea
keeping me up
or maybe just
the abrupt door slam
jolting me back to reality
just as I was drifting
into the peaceful void of
blank nothingness
or else
dreams, probably
if it's homesickness
my heart hurts
for those places I've been alone
and been adopted by some
vicarious, circus family
the trip to Montana
in Spain
the time at Cobalt
just last week
with 4,700 family members
I didn't know I had yet
in high school
when the adoption by
seniors filled that unknown
void I had
these times I took
to know a new place
a new people
and they offered to
love me back
homesickness
if it's nausea
maybe I'd just hoped
to beat it to sleep
before the air in my chest
bubbled up
and asked me to sit up
and asked me to think again
maybe I'd just hoped
to rest without being ready
to catch myself off guard
to wake up refreshed
tricking it this one time
these times I waste
to debate my state
and worry the ache away
only to drift
further and further
awake
sometimes I can't tell