Ride.

I was in a winter of my life, and the met i met along the road were my only summer. At night i fell asleep with visions of my self, dancing and laughing  and crying with them. Three years down the line of being on a endless world tour, and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. I was a singer, not a very popular once. I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that i wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.
But i didn't really mind because i knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing to know what true freedom is.
When the people used to know found out what i had been doing, how i'd been living, they asked me why, but there's not use in talking to people who have home.
They not have idea what it's like to seek safety in other people, for home, to be wherever you lay your head.