*Who'd have ever thought silk sheets would become my hair shirt?*

Everything is open,
Nothing is set in stone.
Rivers turn to oceans,
Oceans tide you home.
Home is where the heart is,
But your heart had to roam.
Drifting over bridges,
Never to return.
Watching bridges burn.

*Where are you tonight? Somewhere with bright lights, with imitation suns shining down like a thousand beeswax candles? Or perhaps a place that's cold, even in the heat of summer. Millions of people who work hard to not see you. Where did you run to, Spike?*

You're driftwood floating underwater,
Breaking into pieces, pieces, pieces.
Just driftwood, hollow and of no use;
Waterfalls will find you, bind you, grind you.

*How far did you run? San Diego? That's not far; I can be there before the sun rises. Las Vegas? I can see you there, managing to find a shadow to skulk in despite all the neon. New York? Cliche, but anonymous.*

Nobody is an island,
Everyone had to go.
Pillars turn to butter,
Butterflying low.
Low is where your heart is,
But your heart has to grow.
Drifting under bridges,
Never with the flow.

*Or have you found someone new? Another to soothe the ache in your newly returned soul? Are you alone, Spike? You used to hate being alone. Remember when Darla took Dru and I into the city, leaving you behind? When we returned, you'd adopted a cat. Named it and everything. Dru tortured it, of course. You didn't cry.*

*Even then you were stronger than me.*

And you really didn't think it would happen,
But it really is the end of the line.
So I'm sorry that you've turned to driftwood,
But you've been drifting for a long, long time.

*I hope you find peace, wherever it is you're traveling to. Or that at the very least no harm comes to you. You might hate me now, but I can't wish you any ill will. Our paths diverged long ago.*

Everywhere there's trouble,
Nowhere's safe to go.
Pushes turn to shovels,
Shoveling the snow.
Frozen you have chosen,
The path you wish to go.
Drifting now forever,
And forever more,
Until you reach your shore.

*Dammit, Spike, where are you? This is the first time I've ever not known where you were. I've kept up with your location for more than a hundred years. I had to know, had to be sure you were still... I need to know, Spike. This ache, this dull knife in my heart, it won't go away until I know you're safe.*

*You know you can come here, don't you? I will always welcome you. This is your home. I am your home.*