There was a time where everywhere felt like home
I found home in others
By actions, words and gestures
Then I would find home in places
By the familiar cherry wood my dad used on our first house
Or the bluestone that also lay by the gardens
Or the melodies my mother played and sang on the Young Chang
New places and people were never a problem
I always knew how to find a home
Until I met you
I realized I had been living in temporary homes
Now nowhere feels like home
I can't find the path to the ****** gardens
I can't smell the fresh wood
I can't hear the melodies
Did they disappear?
Did I stop looking or listening?