An ache in my chest keeps me wide awake. A longing emptiness that can’t be filled up. A disconnection that would make family seem like strangers. Hiding in the streets. I want to go home but I’m ashamed. An internal war rips my chest apart, leaves my stomach unsettled. It’s empty, just like me. I’m losing weight quickly, stuck on the daily grind of the streets. Gotta get yours like everyone else. My eyes strain as they force themselves open. I want to be sleeping. I feel like I’m dreaming. Isn’t this all just a bad dream I’ll wake up from?