People often use the term "home is where the heart is" as reference that home is a literal place. That you can touch it, feel it, live in it and it's physically there. But I just can't seem to wrap my mind around that. Because my heart belongs to a home that isn't there in a physical sense. My home is the way you say my name and draw circles on my lower back. My home is built and structured in between your arms and in the crook of your neck. I've never felt more at home then when we are skin to skin and I want to pull you even closer. No my home is not a building, my home is you and that's where my heart will always be.

the boy with scars and pain rubbed in his palms
the boy who fought for years and years and struggled inside
the boy who was offbeat and out of touch with his classmates
the boy who just wasn't strong enough to make it
he was there for months and i never noticed
my teacher said his name and i was zoned out and heard nothing
he got up and left the classroom and i saw nothing
he sat two seats away and i never realized
until it was too late.
maybe there were no words i could have said to fix him
maybe there was nothing i could do to change the outcome
but now i sit and that seat two to the left is empty
and i can't help but feel responsible
for my ignorance, my blank face that looked past him
could have been just another knife in his chest
i can picture him walking and seeing me and me not seeing him
and how he must have felt invisible
and i know how i feel that way sometimes
i never wanted to worsen anyone's conditions
but now it is too late.

Heaven and Hell,
I taste when i'm with you.

Heart as cold as ice,
yet warm like the grassy fields of the spring meadows.

You were the hurricane, chaotic and unforgiving.
But with every storm, lies a rainbow radiating every inch of beauty within.

Your mind beautifully balanced,
a mysterious blend of dark and cheery.

Your existence, like the gleaming rays of the sunrise.
Bringing new hope after a dark and cold night.

You are the bitter sweet of life.

You're so welcoming
You're here for anyone, with open arms
You love all of the people around you.
Yet, when you open your arms in your
Short sleeve knit
I see scars
Scars all up and down your arms
Some old
Some new
And it makes me see
Someone so beautiful
That makes everyone else
Feel so beautiful
And loved
Can feel so worthless and unloved
And I see now.
I see why you are the way you are,
           You're so welcoming
                 To everyone
  Because no one ever was to you.