Now, had you ever cared to inform me
Of what it means to waste careless years
Wishing that I was anywhere but here,

Perhaps I could embrace this idea of new-age wholeness
As one forcibly embraces discordant notes in utterly forgettable symphonies,
With eager hands clasped in anticipation of a return to what was promised.

And yet, I don't crave an escape from the comfort of
The home I found in the feeling of your skin pressed
Tightly against mine; a quiet rebellion.

For once, I beg of you,
I don't need you to lead me to a way out of here.
I just need you to sit here with me,
Unmistakably taking up space.