How vibrantly she lives,
always moving, always walking,
dancing, spinning, frolicking;
a smile for strangers, a kiss for friends;
a touch on your shoulder, a tinkling laugh;
her soul shines in her face wherever she goes;
How vibrantly she loves.

A puzzle piece doesn't fit
into a place that isn't theirs

So stop
Trying to fit
Into places you don't
Belong
Stop
Trying to squeeze
Into spaces you don't
Fit in
Stop
Altering yourself;
Cutting,
Trimming,
The pieces that make
You
Just to fit into skin
That isn't
Yours

Because no matter how hard you try

A puzzle piece never fits
into a place that isn't theirs

Believe me,
I've tried

When left alone
Late at night
The voices of my mind
Being my only
Lonely plight –

I oft wonder
Do I love you?
Is it a feeling
Imbedded deep within
My soul?

Or a lust?
To be your bed maiden
Your late night
Lure?

Is there a “we”?
A heart spoken
Us?

Or is all this
Just a “madness”
Coated in my lust?

I’m awfully homesick, but

people always ask me the wrong questions.

It’s always
“Where is home for you?
Where do you go?”

The thing is,

“home”

isn’t a “where” question to me.

There is no mere
longitude and latitude
that can locate home for me,
my home is not cemented into the earth.

Home is a “who” question.

Who is home for you?

Where there ought to be brick and mortar there are bones,
where there should be couches and beds to rest on
there are arms open to embrace me.

I find home in no establishment of carpets and china cabinets,
I find comfort and solace in a person.

So, my dear,

you

are home for me.

And I’m homesick.

When you leave, go without a whisper,
as though you were never here. 
Do not leave tear stains on my pillow or kiss my eyes and beg them not to cry.

Dissipate, let the thin air replace you. Leave no echo, no trace of your existence, 
no backward pity glance at what might have been, 

**** the drawn out goodbye, the heartfelt speech, the apologies for the inevitable.

It's not you it's me.....It's always me.

Let the truth hang  above my broken form, swaying as the ceiling creaks under its bitter weight. I will dance to it's rhythm soon enough.

Then cease.