Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow I am waiting for the codependancy to shed. For the cicada of self to be rid of the burden of other angry yesterdays. To split in half and crawl out from the debris of a house convinced it was home. Tomorrow's tomorrow, I will fly. Back to where the trees applaud my arrival. Laying my soul bare in the branches, to let it drop as a seed to the ground and dig its way to the lands of sanctuary. You will see me reborn again in January. Emerging and settling into the vulnerability of summer. Crawling towards a shapeless light, to disrobe and fly away once more.