nothing special

i'm wearing your shirt to bed tonight, wrapped around this cold little body as my soul is still out wandering in the west wisconsin hills finding a place to call home. a beautiful sloping terrain that gently rolls out across america. i miss you. and i wish you were here to see this. i wish you could take me in your arms and see the wide open sunset. i want you to see christmas trees and eagles both growing wild on the roadside. i want you here to comfort the sting of feeling so generic. you can only hear so many times that you're not special before you believe it. in three short days i have come to believe that, not only am i nothing to be impressed with, nothing at all to shout about or be proud of, i'm also nothing much to look at along the way. and i miss being home, where i'm lovely and special. i miss being with you where, even if i'm nothing, you and your love won't ever let me feel that way. because apparently when i'm up here with _ _ _ _ i'm just another faceless nameless body wrapped in nothing special.

i miss your hand in mine, making my whole world right.