I used to run a lot From the pain, the grief, the hurt I would spend money I didn’t have on plane tickets to anywhere that would distract me for just another week, another month, another year As I got older I realized I was never running from them, I was running from me And my God, can I be fast Impulsive, reckless, desperate for anything other than being home with me The first thing I did the last time my heart broke was book a ticket Old habits die hard Life looks a bit different now and I’m finally one of those people I wanted to be with the points that could be traded for anywhere else but here But I got a bit older since the last time I was a dirty backpacker with one too many pieces of baggage And maybe, finally, I’m not running anymore. I’ll go back to the familiar, to the homes I’ve made over the years with the people that know me. And I’ll take less baggage this time Home. Knowing. I hope I forever run towards that No matter how hard it is for me to get up and pack another suitcase And I’ll finally accept that I’ll always be with me, even when I wish I could leave her with the pair of shoes that didn’t fit And I won’t have to leave anymore pieces of me on the tarmac And maybe, finally, I’ll like the girl I am when I land.