We spend our days searching
searching for a home
a sound
a feeling that we're not alone
we think thats we've found it
but once we settle in
it doesn't last the time it took to put our bags in
"home is where the heart is" is what we often hear
but to the heartless it most likely seems to be clear
the homeless ones are the ones who stay inside...
there's a whole world out there
why are you trying to hide?

Our home is in the movement
in running at midnight
it's the quietest sound of grass
when you walk barefoot through sunlight
it's the laughs that weren't planned
it's the putting down your phone
where you truly find home

I found home in a person who spent their energy lying to me
thought it was fun to hear the stories
see how energetic they could be
but once it was time to move
i didn't take pity
i don't regret
leaving my worst friend chloe

Now my home is in rehearsals
in the book i plan to write
in the words of those who care
and in my parents
it might be spite
but thats alright
for the time being
because i can be alone
until 2018
when i find a new home

Once I tossed my cares faraway.
I saw it crash and roll with the waves
As I drifted off silently,
Obstinately ignoring all that I am.
But when the skies turned grey and vengeful,
And the seas, harsh and unforgiving,
The salt in the air and in my mouth,
In my hair, and in my blood,
Swore to drag me away,
From the sweet, sweet bliss of ignorance.

Sweat breaks,
Silence rings loud and vehement.
Shards of glass leaving trails on my skin,
Seeking comfort and libations,
To fill this gaping void.
Oh the storm raged,
As I stubbornly tried to forget,
my encumbrance.

We eagerly wait to be the kite,
That flies freely in the wind.
But tethered are we, to this curse,
That is adulthood.

©Meenu Syriac