I love to trace
the line of freckles
on your face

Your eyes
are so full
of life,
your smile
so true.

Your kiss
fills me
with warmth,
your hands
so gentle
around
my waist.

You are
a great perfection,
and I love you more
than I’ve ever known.

Why is this all so
wrong?

I don’t belong
in this backyard
among their joy.

I lost my home,
but I never
really
had it.

There is a person
instead.
He is home,
more than
them.

Where is my home?
A year later,
the answer
is still
unknown.

I skip over
the days,
always running away
from the end.

This house fits
like an old, hole-ridden glove,
uncomfortable but soft.

I need space,
but cannot stand
the emptiness.

But with him,
there is no silence.

There is sound
all around him,
and every touch
feels safe.

I want to leave
this house behind,
but I am scared.
I do not belong,
even tonight they want me to.

But I cannot breathe
in this little green house,
and I cannot grow.
This family is not really mine.

Who is?
He is.

Sunsets
and
stars,

shining and tossing
time away

Taking my breath
away

Every time
I look up,

My time
wastes
away.

It’s here,
caught in these words I’ve read
so many times,
with a familiar voice in my ears
and warmth on my face
That I really feel like

me.

In your eyes
lies safe haven,
real promises,
and genuine affection.

He lies awake at night,
heart full of memories
and eyes full of tears.
Grief has taken his dreams away.