If I am an angel then where are my wings
If I am of grace why do I feel so far from heaven
If I am beautiful why don't I see it
If I am God's favourite then why do I resent him
If I am the one you worship, stop
Because I fell for a reason and that reason is sin

Maybe home,
is not a place
not even a person
but instead a feeling

It is a feeling where you can finally
adapt to your society and
be comfortable to walk in your skin
without being afraid or scared anymore

And now I'm homesick

I could bleed all the ink from my pen,
As a fountain of my sorrows,  
Streaming endlessly from a shattered heart
Masked behind these dry, but weary tears

But, the length of my scroll,
Short of a new page,
Appeals for a new chapter,
That I return to its headers,
To write within my past,
The story of a new self

Lay beneath the willow
beside the waters edge,
and listen to her secrets
they are spoken in the wind.