This is where I write something for you. This is where I sit down and open a vein. This is where I miss you. This is where I try and find the feeling of prickled skin. This is where I push the headphones closer. This is where I tell you what I think. This is where I tell you what I know. This is where I tell you that it’ll all be ok. This is where I talk to a stranger who isn’t a stranger. This is where I keep my peace, hope, love and happiness. This is where the wind blows. This is the mulberry bush. And around and around we go.