e.n r.o.u.t.e

Destination unknown.
Drowned out in a sea of wind and rain, the sun still stands a chance.
Bed is cold, the sounds are irrelevant, and the faces are familiar...if I only knew what they said.
Moving forward is only true when all else stands still. 
Else, we all are bumping about, keeping track only of the relationship.
I like this place. It's been nice. Maybe I'll stay for tea.
Maybe it'll have me with a lump of sugar, it will test my waters, and taste my air.
So be it, as long as the destination remains unknown.