The coffee spilled, an unsteady table,
Drying ring that gets darker at the edge
The sleep that lingers long in my red eyes
Creases from my bed

Still mapped along my arms and stubbled face
Contrasting sharply with the rest of the room
Where mothers sit with children
Businessmen eat lunch dressed in suits

I exhale an ellipses and a question mark
The things I have to say
The assurance this will work
The shadows of doubt start to swell into an audible cry

“You need to leave from edge of the uncharted lands
The dark spots on maps where no person has ever been
Just give up, go back to California
Go back to where you lived”
But I won’t go home

All the second thoughts the minute decisions
In the hours we will never recall
The days we thought our weakness unconquerable
The nights too long

But a month can find a change in position
Sometimes a year is what it takes to realize
All the forward flailing found a foundation
purpose in time

If I leave from the edge of the uncharted lands
Those dark spots on the map where I was hoping I could stand
Just give up, go back to California
Well what happens then

I’ll keep heading towards the edge of the uncharted lands
Those dark spots on the maps where no cartographer has been
Won’t give up and go back to California, this is where I live
I am home