I’ve never really felt like i was “home”
At night I’ve laid down a sleepy head
Full of wishes that I get through the night safe and sound
But every dream reminds me I’ve never been love in a way that didn’t bring me pain
I wake up these days to open arms and a shoulder to cry on
but the rhythm of his heart beat only is a reminder
Even though he lives in my heart rent free
I’ll never be able to make a home in his
Every time we’re tangle in the sheets I use my imagination.
Through his gasps escaping his lips,
I can make up that he says everything I’ve ever wanted to hear from him.
For a moment I can push away all the restlessness my soul endures
But the reminder crashes over me in waves when it’s over
It swirls around my head and into words that spew out on to pages
Keeping me awake well past 3am
And I write about how I’ve never really been home.
I’ve only visited places I didn’t belong
Sat in crowded spots and and felt all alone
I’ve never found home
Not in a city, not in a person
And not in my very own vessel.