I find myself saying "I wanna go home" a lot. But what do I mean by that? Cause I'm not talking about the home where I mix my flowing tears with the flowing water from the shower, or where I pray my headphones are charged so I can block out the loud arguments.

I'm talking about the home where I run into my dad's arms again when he gets home from work, where I can beg my mom to read me a story as I fall asleep, where I can laugh and not worry about how I'm gonna make it through tomorrow.

But that's impossible. I can't go back to where times were okay. I can't go back to where I felt okay. Because im here now. I'm here with the loud voices telling me to quit. I'm here with the laughter after I take the wrong step. I'm here where I would rather do anything but look at my dad.

I'm not home, I'm nowhere near it. But instead of saying that, I'll just tell myself one more time that I want to go home.

Even though I will never make it back home.