i almost didn't come home tonight

i have a hard time with all of this. all of this quiet, all of this patience, all of this. these trees are black and pointed at me and i am hoping that i won't be able to run. i am hoping that i can stay here and take this like it is, all of the sharpness, all of the stinging, all of the sparkling. i want it all to fall out of my head and into a place where things are white and honest and real and that's where i'll be in the end, with an umbrella and handfuls of music that string along behind me as i move through roads, houses and blueness.