I built the thing I swore would make me whole laid every stone by hand, paid every toll stood at the finish line with open palms and felt the wanting shift before the calm Like chasing light that pools on hardwood floors it moves the moment that you move toward it more I've been a pilgrim with no holy land, just sacred ground that turns to sand And I don't think I'm broken I think I'm just the kind of creature made to always be half-reaching, one foot still inside the shade of everything I haven't touched yet, everything unmade The horizon keeps moving, it always has I arrive and it's already packed its bags left a note on the counter that says not yet, there's a version of you that you haven't met and I grieve it, I do, the inability to just land somewhere, finally be the person who got here and chose to stay but the horizon keeps moving and so do I and maybe that's okay I remember the wanting before the ring, the apartment, the title, the everything how the future glowed amber, tasted clean, how arrival felt gospel, how it gleamed Then the morning after always comes the same a quiet that doesn't quite fit the frame I built for it in all those hungry years too small for joy, too wide for tears And I don't think I'm cursed now I think I'm wired for the open road, for maps with edges I keep falling off, for carrying more than I was ever owed, for loving things so hard I mourn them while I hold The horizon keeps moving, it always has I arrive and it's already packed its bags left a note on the counter that says not yet, there's a version of you that you haven't met and I grieve it, I do, the inability to just land somewhere, finally be the person who got here and chose to stay but the horizon keeps moving and so do I and maybe that's okay What if the wanting isn't wound or flaw what if it's just the shape of how I love Reaching for the unreached, mourning every almost, aching forward like I don't know how to stop Maybe I was built cathedral, not cottage, vaulted ceilings, always room for more — maybe I was never meant to settle, maybe restless is just another word for alive and I've been so ashamed of it for so long So I'll grieve the stillness I was never given hold the girl who always wants the next tell her I know, love, I know how it goes the horizon moves and we move with it and we move with it and somehow that's enough
